She Saw His Eyes
by ForeverRumbelle
Summary: Rumplestiltskin has been feared and hated for centuries. Now that his son is gone, he has gotten used to it, giving up on any type of friendship. One day he runs into a certain child. Has he been given a second chance?
1. Chapter 1: As She Danced In The Rain

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Once Upon A Time Characters.**

 **This is my second story on Fanfic! I am super excited! Please review! I read them all.**

As She Danced in the Rain

"Stop it! I don't care what you think! Give me my book!" she yells, trying to reach it. Eight year old Isabelle french might have been the shortest one in town but she was relentless, not giving up until: 1- someone made her or 2- she succeeded. Gaston laughs as he drops it in the mud.

"Get your nose out of your books stupid girl!" he steps on it as she reaches down. Isabelle stands up. He had ruined another one of her books.

"You are such a bully!" she yells. "You just broke another one of my books and I was at the best part!" They other kids run over to watch, forming a circle around them. She holds back tears. That book was her mothers.

"Did you hear that!" Gaston yells. "She thinks I am a bully!" The other kids laugh and she picks up her now ruined book. He grabs her wrist and holds her hand up. "Isabelle is a baby, Isabelle is a baby!" they all chant. She rips out of his grip and runs out of the circle, crashing into a chicken pen. The owner runs after her with a broom and she darts towards the forest. Nobody but her ever went their in fear of the wolves.

Her dress catches on something, causing her to fall. She lays their, catching her breath. It was going to rain and her father was going to kill her. He had told her not to go into the forest and ruin her pretty dresses. She was a princess, and needed to keep a certain decorum about her. But sometimes, she wished she could be just like the other kids. Carefree and allowed to do what whatever they wanted. Sitting up she yanks at her dress, tearing it off the branch.

"Stupid dress," she says. "Other girls get to wear pants." She had seen a couple and although it wasn't looked highly upon, she loved it. She walks farther into the forest and finds the rest of the books he had ruined. She had put them in a little cave she found, knowing that if her dad saw them, he would be furious. It starts to rain and she walks back into town. Everything is silent, all the windows shut and doors locked. Even the animals are quite. Thunder claps and she begins to run, afraid of being outside during a storm. She knocks on doors all around her but nobody answers. She takes off her shoes and runs faster, not even stopping to check the library. Suddenly, something hits her and she falls back, banging her head on the cement. Thunder claps again and she sits up, holding her head. She opens her eyes and sees a mysterious looking man in front of her.

"Are you ok dearie?" he asks. He looks at her, noticing the scrape on her arm and her soaking wet attire. Clearly this little girl had been outside for some time. He had just finished a deal when the storm struck and was walking through the town, reenforcing the fear he had worked hard for. Everyone else locked themselves in their houses but for some reason, this little one had run into him instead.

She nods her head, standing up.

"Who are you?" she asks. "I am Isabelle." She extends a hand. Why wasn't this girl afraid of him? Couldn't she see his scaly skin and piercing eyes?

"That is not for little ones like you to know," he says, refusing the offer. She scrunches up her nose. His thoughts go to Bae, and how he always did that when he was confused. _Tell her who you are!_ His mind screams. _Watch her run in fear just like the other children._ A boy comes out of a house, holding a knife.

"Get away from her!" he yells. The girl rolls her eyes and looks up to him.

"Don't listen to him. He is mean," she says. The boy dares to come closer and Isabelle steps closer to him. Who was this brat threatening someone as innocent as her? His dark side takes over again. _Why haven't you left yet? This girl deserves none of your time. Kill them and leave!_ He snarls. He looks back at her and sees his son again. He sighs, putting the thoughts aside. They sit down against a near by fence as the boy runs up to them.

"Give me Isabelle!" he yells. "Or I will kill you." _This boy was confident. This could be fun._

"Dearie, put the knife down," he says. "Its not smart to threaten strangers."

"I will put it down when you give me the girl," he says. Rumple rolls his eyes and flicks his hand, throwing the boy back and taking the knife. Isabelle gasps. The boy gets up and walks towards Belle, angry.

"Wouldn't do that dearie," Rumple says. "I wouldn't want to have to get messy with this knife of yours." Gaston looks at Isabelle as she gets up. She walks up to him and he grabs her wrist.

"Your coming with me," he says, glaring at Rumple. He shrugs his shoulders, watching the drama.

"No I am not," she says. The rain slows down as he stares at her. He to was now dripping wet. He drops her wrist and stomps off.

"I will tell your father!" he yells. "Perhaps he can teach you a lesson or two! And destroy your books!" he yells as he runs off. She stands their, petrified. If her father ever found out.. She turns around and the strange man is gone, the knife laying in his place. She picks it up and runs home, proud of her new possession.

&/&

Hope was something Rumple had put aside along time ago. Everyone was afraid of him and hated him. But that little girl hadn't even flinched. In fact, she had offered him her hand. She was good, better then snow white even. The demons in his head deafen his lingering thoughts of her. _You left Bae. You are a monster! Leave the thing alone and move on!_

"SHE IS NOT A THING!" he screams. In fact, in his heart, he knew that she was his only hope. _She is not hope! She is a child messing around with someone who could kill her! You aren't a babysitter! Kill her before she ruins you!_ He runs upstairs to his spinning wheel but nothing helps. He had to make a decision. Either he was on her side or he finished the process that had been taking over his mind and heart for the past three hundred years. "No," he says, shaking his head. "I can not become completely dark. I must find my son. I must accept the girl." With this decision he gets up off the spinning wheel and listens for her. He hears crying and teleports to her room, invisible. The demons were right. He couldn't babysit her. He didn't want to anyways. Her father is standing by her bed with her books in his hand as she cries, sitting on the bed.

"I told you not to ruin your dresses, and you disobey. I tell you to listen to Gaston, and you disobey. I tell you not to run, or read in public and you disobey!" he yells. "Can you do nothing!" he yells.

"Daddy, I told you, Gaston is mean. He doesn't listen to me, ever," she says. "And I want to play with the other girls, but they won't play with me because of my dresses." He walks over to the door.

"Stay in your room until lunchtime tomorrow. And you may not read, or play, or go anywhere until I tell you to. That should give you plenty of time to think about what you have done," he says. "I can't have my reputation ruined because of your disobedience. I expect to see a different, real, princess tomorrow." With that he walks out, closing the door behind him. She lays back on her sheets, quietly, sniffling every now and then. She grabs her stuffed animals and quietly has little conversations with them. He watches her, glad she didn't know of his presence. Surely she would be terrified. He dozes off, leaning against the wall.

A bat hits the window, jerking him awake. It was two-o clock in the morning and he fallen asleep. He looks over, hearing her soft little breaths. She had fallen asleep, her stuffed elephant tucked under her arm and her dog propping her head up. He carefully picks her up, the way he did Bae, and places her under her sheets. She rolls over, mumbling in her sleep. _Stop it Rumpelstiltskin! You are giving yourself a weakness! You are a coward!_ His thoughts continue to haunt him as he watches her. _Don't give this girl your sympathy! Bae would be ashamed if he saw you distracted like this._ But he knew that wasn't true. Bae had invited several strangers into their house before he had turned into the dark one. He teleports back to the Dark castle and spins, trying to ignore the demons that constantly haunted him. The girl was his last hope.

&/&

"I will get you Gaston!" she yells across the street. "I hate you!" She digs a little hole and buries the dead sparrow she had been trying to help. When Gaston had seen her carrying it home, he had grabbed it from her, breaking its neck. _You are ridiculous._ He had said. _Don't waste your time helping these annoying little pip squeaks! You are such a naughty little thing._ Tears stream down her face at the innocent birds death. She gathers flowers, and places them on top of the grave. She didn't care what everybody else thought. It had been two months since she had seen the strange man and ever since then, Gaston had been seeking out ways to make her miserable. He had just turned fourteen, and she was only eight; however, she would be nine in six months. She grabs her book and runs into the forest. The cave was a very special place for her, just about the only place where her daddy or Gaston wouldn't come take her books. Plus, her mother used to take her here on picnics before she got sick.

&/&

It had been a few weeks since he had checked on the little girl. She was brave, challenging Gaston who was a giant compared to her. Even though he hated how that wretched boy treated her like trash, he didn't want to be in her life any more then he was now. She was young, to young to be dealing with a monster like him. He didn't deserve a second chance anyways.

It was almost lunch time so he figured when he teleported to her this afternoon she would be eating lunch. He disappears in a cloud of smoke, surprised to find her in the forest again. Since her father had forbidden her to go their she had avoided it. And it was raining again. He sees her in the distance and makes himself invisible as he walks closer. What was she doing? She twirls, her dress poofing around her. Was she dancing? In this horrid weather? He sits on a log and watches her run around, dancing. She holds her elephant in her hands and spins with her invisible prince. She was a lonely one. Without siblings and the town siding with Gaston she seemed to make up a lot of her own games, most of them stemming off the books she had read. He had been an only child to, the difference being that he was poor and under the care of old maids who forced him to spin daily. Any imagination he had before was hidden away, under the creaking wheel and thick straw. Suddenly, a clap of thunder sends her running into to the cave. He follows her, noticing scratch marks on the left wall of the cave. He watches her take out the knife he had left, scratching another line. He counts them, and realizes they represented the days that had passed since he had seen her last. Or, since she had seen him. He had seen her many times since then but, did she miss him? _No,_ his mind screams. _You only knew her for ten minutes. Nobody misses you! Nobody can love the wicked thing you have become!_ He shakes his head, wishing the thoughts to go.

"I wish he would come back," he hears behind him. He turns around, and notices her setting up her stuffed dog and elephant and picking up a book. "He was nice. I liked his eyes," she says. He growls quietly. Seriously? He was a demon. "and everyone doesn't understand him, like me. I bet he reads a lot." she says. "Because that's what I do when nobody wants to play." He never read actually. Unless he was making a new potion. This was the first time he had ever heard her mention him. Usually, she talked about Gaston, or about her books. " _Rumpelstiltskin,"_ someone calls. He answers, eager to get away. She could never like someone like him. He finds himself in a room in her castle. The king had called. He couldn't stand him. So self centered and always scolding his daughter for acting her age. Ridiculous.

"What do you want dearie? Riches, gold? Name it and maybe I won't kill you," he says. The king looks at him. His face held great sorrow.

"My wife," he says. "She died. And I want her back. Raise her from the dead and I will give you whatever you wish," he says. Rumpelstiltskin is shocked. Isabelle's mother had been her only source of true comfort. Her only friend. How could that be taken from her? He shoves the thought aside, focused on the deal.

"I can not raise people from the dead, dearie," he says. He grabs the kings jaw and stares straight into his eyes. "Next time, call for something a little more reasonable." He disappears when he hears Isabelle enter the room. Her father sends her away, telling her he needed to be alone.

"I will be back before night falls. Before then, go read or do whatever you always do in your spare time." She walks out and he watches her head to her mothers room. She held flowers in her hand, and was overjoyed to show her mother what had been growing around the cave. He watches in agony, each little step bringing her closer to the horrifying discovery. He couldn't appear now just to tell her that her mother died? Who does that? But if she saw the corpse she would be scarred. Finally, he makes his decision. He stands behind her and softly calls her name, trying not to startle her.

"Isabelle," he says. She whips around and looks up at him, smiling.

"I knew you would come back," she says, giving him a big hug. He stiffens, wishing she wouldn't touch him. She was an innocent little girl, he didn't deserve her touch. He sighs, backing away. How could he tell her that he had appeared simply to tell her of her mothers death. She reaches for the door and he grabs her wrist. She looks at him, confused.

"I brought these flowers for my mother. I have to give them to her before she goes to tea," she says. "You can meet her if you want. She is really nice." He feels a lump forming in his throat. How could he tell her. He gets on one knee and looks down. She stands their silently, her brow furrowed. He looks back up at her crystal eyes.

"Your mother," he whispers. "Your mother is dead." She looks at him, tears starting to form.

"She's not coming back, is she," she says shaking her head. He stands up.

"No, Isabelle. She's gone." She looks at the door and back at him and runs to her room. It was just like Bae. He had to do this all over again. When he had told him of his mothers death, he had been devastated, mourning for days. They grew close over that time. He missed his son more then anything else in the world. He walks into her room and finds her curled in a little ball, crying into her stuffed dogs fur. He wanted to be their for her, tell her everything was going to be fine but he knew that was wrong. He turns invisible as her father walks into the room and sits on her bed. She sits up, looking at him.

"Mommy died," she says. "Why didn't you tell me?" The father sighs, placing his hand on top of his daughters.

"Who told you?" he asks.

"The strange man I saw on the road. He didn't want to daddy. Please don't hurt him," she pleads. The man gives his daughter a hug.

"I won't hurt him. What does he look like though? I would like to meet him." She pauses, more tears falling.

"He has silky gray hair and bright yellow eyes. And he is tall, almost as tall as you!," she says. "And his skin is gray and he wears really awesome clothes. If I see him again I will tell him who you are and maybe we can all play together." The king stands up quickly, ripping out of his daughters grip.

"That is no man!" he yells. "Stay away from him! He is a monster!" She begins sobbing again.

"But daddy, he is my only friend. He came to visit today for the first time and I miss him sometimes. He is lonely, like me." The father scoffs at the remark.

"If I ever catch you anywhere near him, you will be severely punished." He goes out, slamming the door. Rumpelstiltskin stands their, disgusted. How could he treat his daughter this way! He should be holding her, comforting her, being the father she needed. _This isn't your job,_ his mind screams. _Leave her alone. Her father is right. Demons like you should be fleeing from her presence._

He watches as she opens her window and climbs down a vine, running through the forest. It was dark and he follows her. Unable to see, she passes the cave, collapsing over a branch. She gets on her knees and sobs, praying to the gods that they bring her mother back.

"Mommy, you said you would stay," she cries. "Please come back home. Please." she whispers. Even he sheds some tears, not for the mother, but for the precious soul weeping before him. After half an hour she stands up hugging her dog to her chest. Her beautiful locks of hair are gnarled and crowd around her tear stained face. She looks around and shivers in the cold. He disposes of the invisibility spell. He stood a few feet away, leaning against a tree. She simply stands their, her head down, her stuffed dog the only comfort she had left.

"Isabelle," he whispers. She lifts her head. "Isabelle," he calls again. "Come here." She turns her head in his direction and walks towards him. His heart skips a beat, never understanding why she continued to come back and want him. Nobody wanted him. But for now, the demons were silent and he felt like a man again. She stares at him.

"Can you be my friend?" she whispers. He reaches down and picks her up. She wraps her arms around his neck and lays her head on his shoulder.

"Yes, Isabelle. As long as you will have me." She nods her head and closes her eyes. He teleports them to her room and puts her down. With a flick of his hand she is in her nightgown. She gasps.

"How did you do that?" she asks.

"Magic dearie." He tucks her into bed and disappears in a cloud purple smoke. He can barely hear the last words she utters before she falls asleep but they echo in his mind all the same.

"Thank you." she whispers. Rumple goes into another night of dealing, with peace, because he had been given a second chance.

 **Please review! I hope you have enjoyed the story so far! There will be more chapters.**


	2. Chapter 2: Belle

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Once Upon A Time characters.**

 **Please review! I love to read them and haven't gotten any yet.**

"Belle"

Isabelle plays in the lake while her maid folds laundry. He hadn't come back since the night her

mother died . She had grown so much. It had been five months and she still prayed that he would come back every night. He decided that he would do so, today. But certainly not every day. To many other important things to do.

He gets into the water and lifts her in the air. She looks around, confused. He releases the invisibility spell he had forgotten about and she squeals in delight.

"You came back," she says. He puts her down and she holds onto his arm for support.

"I suppose I did," he says. She frowns.

"You need to come more often. That's what friends do." she says matter of factly. He splashes her and she laughs.

"If you would just call we wouldn't have this issue," he says. She squints at him.

"I don't know your name. You never told me," she says.

"Rrrrrrumplestiltskin," he says dramatically. She smiles and tries to copy him but can't roll her rr's. "You have to put your tongue on the roof of your mouth," he says. "Like this. Rrrrrrumplestiltskin." She tries again but coughs in the middle of saying it. "No no no no dearie, you aren't doing it right," he says. She was so adorable.

"Can I just call you Rumple," she asks.

"Can I just call you Iss?"

"No," she says. "Call me something else."

"Belle," He suddenly says. She smiles.

"That is what my mother called me. You would have liked her, Rumple." He splashes her and someone screams behind him. He sees the maid running towards them. _Great._ He flicks his wrist and turns her into a cat. Belle runs towards her and glares at him.

"Turn her back or else," she says. He rolls his eyes.

"Why would I do that dearie?"

"Because I said so!" He glares at her. If this maid was that important then maybe he would spare her. With a flick of his wrist she is human again. Belle walks up to him and takes his hand, leading him to the maid. Why would she want to touch him?

"Miss Marian this is-" he stops her.

"Rrrrrumplestiltskin," he says. The maid stares at him.

"What are you doing with little Isabelle?" she asks.

"That, is none of your concern." he says. "Unless you would like to find yourself under my boot." Isabelle interupts.

"He is my friend," she says.

"Hardly," he mumbles under his breath. Belle glares at him. He goes to leave and Belle runs up in front of him.

"You have to come back," she says. "Or I will come find you myself." He rolls his eyes.

"I will make you a deal," he says. "If you say my name correctly, then I shall return." she puts out her hand.

"Deal," she says. When he doesn't take it she grabs it. "Your supposed to do this." He relents and disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.

&/&

Maurice walks into Isabelle's room and finds her trying to repeat the devils name. He slams the door, causing her to jump. She turns around and looks down.

"What did I tell you about hanging around that beast," he says.

"I am sorry daddy. He is my only friend." Maurice picks up his daughter and puts her on his lap.

"He is not your only friend, Isabelle. You have Gaston and the other girls. That thing is dangerous." She shakes her head.

"No, he's not daddy. He is way funner then Gaston," she says. "Gaston is bossy and mean."

"Do not argue with me Isabelle French. You have no idea what that man has done."

"All he did was turn the maid into a cat daddy. And then he changed her back when I told him to." Maurice sighs.

"He kills little girls like you Isabelle. And then eats them." She shakes her head.

"Rumple wouldn't do that."

"Yes, he would young lady." he sets her on her bed. "Now, for your punishment." She stiffens. "No more reading for a week and no more playing outside," He says. "You are behind on your sewing and knitting lessons as well as math. No daughter of mine is going to come out an idiot so I expect you are all caught up by the end of the week," he says firmly. She nods her head, her eyes glistening with tears. "And certainly no more playing with the Dark One." With that he walks out. She practices his name again and again, just quieter. She would get this.

&/&

Her tongue was so sore from trying to say his long name. But that afternoon, she got it. And right in the middle of a hard math problem to. Hands cover her eyes and she smiles. He had heard her.

"Do it again dearie but with a little more personality," he says. She stands up and bows,

"Rrrrrumplestiltskin," she says. He shakes his head.

"Your not bowing right." She squints at him.

"Rumple," she whines. "I tried and tried and tried. All night!" she says. He knew that wasn't completely true. But she had fallen asleep trying.

"All right all right," he says. He looks at the papers on her desk. "What are you working on Belle?" She frowns.

"Are you going to eat me?" she asks. "My daddy said that you were going to." He looks at her and scoffs.

"Of course not, dearie," he says. "I don't eat my friends." She smiles at this.

"Is it ok if I talk to you, even if my daddy says not to? He doesn't like you like I do." He picks up the papers and looks down at her. He was already dooming this child to a life a misery.

"Do what you want, dearie. He won't find me," he says. "Now, what is all this?"

"Stupid math that my dad says will make me smarter. But he is wrong! I will never need to know that cost of two hundred pineapples," she says. He grins. She was feisty.

"Can you do it though? That's the question," he says. She shakes her head.

"It takes me forever! And my daddy took away all of my books. And I have to sew," she says, irritated. "This stuff is so boring."

"I will make you a deal," he says, putting the papers back. "For every page of math you do I will give you something you have never had before." She looks down at the paper.

"What does that mean?" she says.

"It means that I have two hours before I have to leave and you need to get as many papers done as you can within that time." She grins at this and gets to work. Just like Bae. An hour and a half passes and she stands up.

"Done!" she yells. He hears her and reappears from a deal. Now that the man was rich, he would stop calling for him.

"Is that so Dearie?" he says. She gives him the papers and he looks through them. Every one was correct and very neat. At this rate, he would be raising the child. Rumple brushes off the thought. She was simply their to take his mind off things. "Not bad," he says. She grins and sways, waiting for her prize. He picks her up and they sit on the bed. He magics up a strawberry and gives it to her.

"What's this?" she asks.

"A strawberry, dearie. Eat the red part." She does and smiles. He conjures up a bowl of them and they eat together.

"Thank you Rumple," she says. "We should do this again sometime." He stands up. In one month she would be nine years old. She should be outside, playing with her friends but instead, chose to be with him. "Why doesn't my daddy like you? I tried to tell him we were friends," she says. "But he never listens to me." He frowns.

"Little girls like you are to young to know these things. But you will, someday. And then, we won't be friends anymore," he says. She frowns at this.

"So when I learn those things you won't want to be my friend?" she asks.

"No, Belle. You, won't want to be my friend."

"But why?" she asks. "You are my only friend. I would never not want to be friends." He shakes his head again.

"You will understand someday."

"But Rumple,"

"Because I am a monster!" he yells. She stares at him, wide eyed.

"You aren't a monster. Just nobody understands you," she says. "Just like Gaston doesn't understand why I read." She walks to the window and opens it, climbing down the vine. He looks down.

"What are you doing dearie?" he asks. She looks up at him.

"Going to my mothers grave. I promised her I would come every day." He magics down and invisibility follows her. She picks some flowers and puts them to the side of the grave stone. She looks around to make sure nobody is their, and he feels a little guilty for stocking her.

"Hey mama," she says. "You always said I would make friends someday. Well, I did. And there is this man named Rumple. He visits me a lot now. When daddy is busy, he plays with me. Daddy doesn't have hardly any time now that you died, mama. He gets mad at me a lot for reading." She pauses and takes a strawberry out of her pocket. "Rumple gave this to me today. He doesn't have a lot of friends either. People don't like him because he is different. Eat the red part. The leaves are bitter." She stands up and runs back to the vine. She climbs up quickly and finds Rumpelstiltskin is gone. She prays he will be back tomorrow. She is always so alone. Running downstairs, she finds her father raving over some knife he found. He was busy, as usual. She goes back upstairs to finish knitting. Rumple promised more treats tomorrow if she was good. 


	3. Chapter 3: Charm of Grace

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the once upon a time Characters.**

Charms of Grace

It was all because of the dropped stitch several stitches ago. Her bruised hand with her angry teacher still pointing that wretched ruler at her. Two more days were still left in her grounding. Rumple had yet to show up again.

"Isabelle French. You know better then to ignore these things. Next time you bring in a scarf with a deliberately dropped stitch it will be five strikes instead of three. You are a princess, and I expect that you work like one." She nods her head, holding back tears. Her teacher had struck her three times today, for the three accidentally dropped stitches. "You are excused for the rest of the day, Isabelle. But I expect to see you on Monday, bright and early." Miss. Berkeley exits the room, leaving her to finish cleaning up.

"Up already, dearie?" she hears behind her. Belle jumps up, facing Rumpelstiltskin. She nods her head, blinking away tears.

"We had to start at six thirty today because of her daughters birthday party," she says quietly. "I couldn't go because my daddy won't let me. I can't even go to my cave anymore." Rumple sighs. Her father was so strict these days. This was no way to treat a child. If he had ever gotten a second chance with Bae, he would do anything for him. He notices her covering her hand.

"What's wrong, dearie?" She looks up at him. Her eyes reveal her pain. She turns away and starts cleaning up the wool.

"You said that you were coming back three days ago. I waited all day but you never came," she says innocently. He did remember saying that after he gave her the strawberries. Although she was constantly haunting his thoughts, he didn't think he did hers. Nobody had ever wanted him unless they were in trouble. He leans against the wall and watches her work. This could be done in seconds with magic, but, she didn't know about all that yet. No need to scare her this early in their relationship.

"I suppose I did," he says. "But, I do have all day today. If you want." She turns around and hugs him, tightly. He stiffens, not having been touched by a child in years. What if he hurt her? What if this was a mistake?

"Thank you!" She says. "You are my bestest friend ever!" she says. He notices a bruise on her hand.

"Isabelle, why do you have a bruise on your hand?" he asks. She looks down.

"I dropped three stitches on my scarf today and the teacher got really mad at me. I didn't mean to but she always hits me with the ruler when she gets mad." He grimaces at her pain. How could someone do this to such a sweet child? They are to be loved and cared for, not abandoned and punished. He takes her hand and kisses it, healing the wound. She looks at her hand, puzzled.

"Is it magic again?" she asks.

"Of course, dearie." She caught on to things quickly. She was a bright one.

"Thank you for making it better," she says. "I wish my daddy could do that to. He doesn't even tuck me into bed anymore. He says I need to grow up." He frowns at this. She was still a little girl. He tucked Bae into bed up until the day he lost him.

"Well, perhaps your father is just to busy. He is the king, you know," he says. She nods her head.

"What are we going to do today?" she asks. "I don't have any more math homework." He thinks for a moment. Using magic, he pulls out a child's book from his library. One he used to read to Bae.

"Why don't you read to me? I heard that you are a very good reader." She smiles, taking the book. The Velveteen Rabbit.

"What if my daddy hears me? He will be very mad. He doesn't like it when I read."

"Well," Rumple replies. "Then I shall simply have to make sure he doesn't hear you." She runs up to her room and he pulls a chair up beside her bed. She begins to read, allowing him to help her with the hard words. He leans against the back of the chair and relaxes, her voice like music. He wished she could stay this young. So innocent and so unaware of the monster beside her. After an hour, everything goes quiet. He looks down, noticing her asleep with her head propped up by the pillows.

"Goodnight my Belle," he whispers, taking the book from her hands. He lays her back and covers her with the blankets at the end of her bed. She grins, having a good dream. The day was half gone and her father hadn't even come to check on her. Even Bae had friends. And a father who cared, even if he was a coward. In a cloud of purple smoke, he poofs to the dark castle. As long as he lived, this girl would never go to bed hungry or tuck herself into bed alone again. She was just to special for that type of treatment.

&/&

Belle climbs down the vine and runs to her mothers grave. She sits their, tears streaming down her face. Her birthday was in three days and her mother wouldn't be their. She picks up the Velveteen Rabbit book and tells her mother all about it. Rumple appears as she walks back, and they walk silently together.

"Your mother loved you," he says as she sets the book on the bed. She sits down and stares at her lap.

"Daddy says she wanted a boy instead of a girl. She never told me that though." He sits beside her and she climbs onto his lap, crying into his chest. He runs his fingers through her hair. She sobs, her little tears soaking through his silk shirt. Her father had never given her comfort. Night after night she had cried herself to sleep, unaware of his presence.

"But she did love you little Belle." She looks up at him.

"Are you sure?" He nods his head, wiping away her tears. He takes a box out of his pocket, and gives it to her.

"It's an early birthday present, dearie," he says. Her eyes widen in surprise.

"You remembered," she says, excited. She opens it, revealing a gold necklace with a pearl in the center, pressed into a sapphire. She gasps at its beauty.

"If you wear this necklace, you will always be safe." She didn't need to know how. The enchantment he had put on it allowed him to be able to feel her strongest emotions as she did. He puts it on her neck and she hugs him.

"Thank you Rumpelstiltskin," she says. "I will always wear it." He puts her down and she looks longingly outside. The wind blows, sending leaves to dance in the wind. She nearly bounces with excitement.

"If you wanted to go outside dearie, you shouldv'e just asked," he says nonchalantly. Baelfire had been filled with energy as a child. Always running around everywhere. She looks at him and frowns.

"I can't. My daddy says to stay in my room. I already snuck out to visit my mother." He smiles. She was just about the only person willing to obey that self centered excuse for a parent.

"Well, what if I take you to my castle. Then, your father could never find you." She looks at him pleadingly.

"But what if he notices I am not in my room?"

"He won't. I will make sure of that dearie," he says. She smiles and starts climbing down the vine. He waits for her at the bottom, amused at her efforts to walk their. "Isabelle, you don't think I would make you walk the whole way their, do you? Surely your father would notice if you were gone a few months trying to find my castle."

"Well, how else are we supposed to get their? Do you have a horse?" He laughs at her idle efforts to learn how they were to arrive at the castle.

"Of course not, dearie. Don't be silly." She stares at him, her brow furrowed. He flicks his wrist and they arrive near the lake at the castle. She stumbles, falling into a bush.

"What did you do?" she asks. "What was that?" So many questions.

"Curiosity killed the cat, dearie," he says. She giggles, climbing up a tree. It wasn't really meant to be funny but if she stopped asking it worked well enough.

"Well then, its a good thing I am not a cat," she says. He stares at her as she admires the leaves, sitting on a branch.

"Well, aren't you going to play?" She looks at him, confused.

"What are we going to play?" She asks. "All the other girls wear pants that make them run really fast. My dresses tear." Wiggling his fingers, she is dressed as those other girls. She beams at him, surprise written all over her features. This little girl was so easy to please. She hardly asked for anything, and rarely complained.

"Find me," he says, disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke. She jumps out of the tree, running around and searching through the bushes. He watches her from behind a tree as she approaches him.

"I will find you!" she yells. Hands grab her waist and she squeals as he lifts her into the air. He sets her down gently on a branch. "That's not fair!" she says. "I was supposed to find you!"

"Well dearie, I don't play fair." She squints at him.

"I suppose not. Guess that would be to nice for a beast to do," she says teasingly, poking his chest. He pretends to be offended, making her laugh.

"Well, you know what happens to little girls who call their only friends beasts?" Her eyes widen as she jumps off the branch. He catches her, pinning her to the ground. "They get...tickled." He moves his hands up and down her sides as she fights him, trying to get away. Fits of giggles suppress her movements as she squirms beneath his grasp.

"Rumple!" she squeals. "I didn't...didn't mean it," she laughs. "Stop!" He continues, finding the sensitive spot underneath her rib cage. Tears stream down her face as she tries to find his hands. "Ruuumplle! Please!" she laughs, curling into a little ball. "Stoooppp itt!" Minding his claws, he tickles the back of her neck. This girl was hopelessly ticklish. Her laughter rings in the air, his fingers moving gracefully over her little body. After a few minutes he stops, leaving her sprawled beneath him, gasping for air.

"You are hopelessly ticklish, girl," he says. She laughs, tears glistening in her joy-filled eyes.

"Of course I am Rumple. I have never been tickled before," she says. This girls honesty was going to get her in trouble someday.

"Well, dearie. I can always fix that," he says. She backs away, avoiding his prodding fingers.

"Don't you dare Rumple," she says, failing miserably at being serious. He giggles his famous imp giggle. She jumps on him, sending him to the ground. She sits on his stomach, her arms crossed.

"You might as well surrender," she says. "I have clearly defeated you."

"So sure dearie?" he asks. She nods her head. He takes his hand and squeezes her thighs, catching her as she falls in between his knees. Soon she is pinned down to the ground, giggling as he tickles her a bit more.

"Not so sure now, are you dearie?" he asks. She laughs. "Might as well surrender to the beast!" She shakes her head.

"Your not a beast Rumple! I am the beast. You have to be the night in shining armor to defeat me!" she says. "Or, at least that is what happens in my books," she says, scrunching up her nose. "Or I can be the princess. Whatever you want," she says.

"Well, dearest Belle. You would make a really scrawny beast," he says. "So a princess will have to do." He gets up and notices the pink clouds in the distance. He turns around and finds Belle throwing pebbles in the water. "Isabelle, its time to go home," he says. She looks at him, her eyes betraying her hidden disappointment.

"But Rumple, I want to stay with you. You play with me and are nice to me. My daddy doesn't have any time for me anymore," she says. "Must we go back?" He nods his head. Truly this girl must be desperate to wish to stay with a clawed beast as him. But he could never give her what she needed. His fathering days were far gone.

"Ok," she says. "But will you come back?" He clears his throat, taking the young girls hand.

"If you wish." he says. He flicks his wrist and they arrive back at the her castle. She gasps, leaning heavily on him. She hugs him.

"Thank you Rumple. You are amazing," she says. He had been described as many things. But amazing, had never been one of them. He puts some distance between them. Why did this girl attract him so?

"It's nothing," he says. "But we are forgetting something rather important, princess." She scrunches up her nose.

"What did we forget?" she asks. He pulls a rose from behind him and holds it out to her. Isabelle beams, taking it from him and placing it in a vase on her nightstand.

"It's beautiful," she says. But when she turns around he is gone. She eats the sandwich her maid had brought and crawls into bed. Today, had been a very fun day.

The maid peeks in, noticing the tired girl. She shakes her head. "That girl is something else," she says. "That monster better not ruin it."


	4. Chapter 4: Dandelion Sun

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Once Upon A Time Characters**

Dandelion Sun

He had never promised her anything and hardly given her anything. And yet, she waited by her window every day, silently, for who she claimed was her only friend. One, who she could tell no one about; one who would one day be saved by her ever so patient soul. He only came twice a week, Mondays, and Saturdays. She wished he would come every day, however, she knew he was a busy man.

"Isabelle," her father says. "Why don't you go play outside. Your lessons are finished for today and I am very proud of your hard work." She looks down at her bruised hand and wrists; her scraped up knee and dirtied shoes.

"Daddy, I don't want to play outside with Gaston. He keeps getting meaner and meaner." Maurice sighs. It wasn't that Gaston was getting meaner. It was that Isabelle was getting more frustrating.

"Isabelle, if you would stop reading so much and do what he asks then he would be nice to you." She nods her head, keeping her eyes to the floor.

"Daddy, I don't want to do what he says. I want to be able to play what I want to play."

"What has he asked you to do that was so hard, precious Isabelle?" She brushes some hair out of her face.

"He likes to play games that I don't like to play. Like truth or dare. And he is mean to the animals when he chases them and throws rocks at them." He leans against her door. Why did his daughter always have to be so sensitive?

"It doesn't hurt the animals very much Isabelle. And you don't have to participate in truth or dare if you don't want to," he says.

"Yes, I do daddy. I do because he calls me names when I don't. And everyone laughs at me."

"Just ignore them Isabelle. If you want, I will talk to Gaston. We will see if we can figure something out." She smiles, giving her dad a hug.

"Thank you daddy," she says. He pats his daughter on the head. She had just turned nine and was quickly coming of age.

"What are you going to do Isabelle?" he asks. "Just stare out the window?"

"I think I will finish my book daddy. It has lots of cool stories in it about dragons and ogres." He takes his daughters face in his hands.

"Reading isn't what young women do, Isabelle. Those things aren't what should concern you. A princess should stand by her husband, and sew and knit. Reading gives you ideas Isabelle, not ones I am taking much favor with." She backs away and looks back out the window.

"I know daddy. I will try harder to be better for you." He hugs her.

"That's what I want to hear Isabelle." He walks out of the room and she sits on her bed. Today was Wednesday, and she missed her friend dearly. Especially since she was all bruised up cut from Gaston throwing rocks at the horse she was trying to ride. Rumple could always make it better, unlike her father, who didn't even notice.

&/&

Rumpelstiltskin spins at his wheel, his last deal having been a frustrating one. The queen always wanted something new.

"Never content," he whispers. "Never content and always asking for more." By now he had an entire pile of gold laying beside his wheel. It was dark, with grief. He had limited himself to visit the child twice a week, trying to keep some form of constraint around him. Nevertheless, he was and angry and frustrated right now, and he needed to see her again. _Need her? You have grown weak dark one. The girl will learn to despise you, just like Bae._ He throws a teacup at the wall, content when it shatters. Twice a week. That was it.

A jolt of emotions strike him. _Isabelle,_ he whispers. _The necklace._ Something was wrong. He magics himself to her room and finds her maid, scolding her and putting something fowl in her mouth. Belle wore her nightgown, nearly ready for bed.

"Perhaps this soap will teach you not to speak of such things, Isabelle. Ogres are horrible, horrible creatures and I will hear no such talk about going off and fighting them." He rolls his eyes. She only wanted adventure. For goodness sakes, could she ever be a child? He flicks his wrist and turns it into chocolate, a treat she had never had before. Her eyes widen and she stares at the floor as her maid walks out of the room.

"Tell me dearie, what's all this about fighting ogres?" She whips around. He loved startling her. He was surprised though, that the stone had jolted him so much for something so minor. Something else must have happened.

"I wanted to fight Ogeres like the prince in the book did. But everyone keeps saying that only boys can do that. My daddy says I have to get married and knit and sew and do other things I don't really want to do. He says I have to give him a son, but I don't even know how to do that yet." He looks away, feeling a bit awkward. She was to young for that conversation.

"Well, perhaps one day you will want to get married and you will be happy," he says. She shakes her head.

"I don't want to get married. I want to have adventures like my mother always wanted."

"Well dearie, fighting those nasty creatures isn't something I would call, _adventure._ " She looks up at him, her eyes wide.

"You have seen the Ogers? Have you killed one before?" He remembers the days of his cowardly self. He could have fought them, but he would have died trying. The fear, the blood red sky filled with the pleading voices of children facing death.

"Yes, dearie, and I suggest you stop asking about them. I promise you don't ever want to meet one. But if you do, call my name and I shall kill him for you." She smiles at this, content. He notices her bruised up hand. "Belle, who hurt you?" She frowns at this.

"Gaston did. He through rocks at the poor horse I was trying to ride and knocked me off." His eyes widen. That stupid boy was messing with the wrong girl. That must have been what jolted him.

"Are their any other injuries?" She nods her head.

"You have to promise not to hurt him though Rumple. He doesn't deserve it." He glares at her.

"He clearly hurt you Belle. I think I can decide what he deserves." It came out crueler then he had intended but it was true all the same.

"Rumple! I won't show you the rest of my wounds unless you promise not to hurt him!" He smiles at this. Becoming a little dealer already.

"Alright dearie. But you have to let me fix every single one of them if I don't kill him." She smirks at him.

"I'm not a baby you know. I can handle it."

"Well I can't let a princess suffer, now can I? Not when I have magic simmering at my fingertips." She thinks for a moment.

"Ok. But you have to leave him alone. No killing him, no turning him into some strange creature, and no hurting him or his stuff." Holy devils, this child was outsmarting him already. She knew him better then most. Always taking advantage of any loopholes. He holds out his hand and they shake, something she always demanded when they made their innocent deals.

"Did your father see your wounds, Belle? Does he know about Gaston?" She frowns. Great. Look whose asking pesky questions now.

"He didn't see that I was hurt like you did Rumple. And he thinks I need to listen to Gaston. He told him to keep me safe. But Gaston isn't nice to me, even when I do what he wants me to." It seemed the more he learned about her father, the more he grew to loathe him. He was so blessed, and yet, he treated her as nothing. He looks over and notices her picking up a book, flipping through it. He takes the book away, grabbing her injured hand as her blue eyes gaze up at him.

"What are you doing?" she asks. He kisses her hand once again, healing the bruises. He could do this the easy way, without even touching her. But his paternal instincts were returning as he realized her need for some sort of physical contact with something. But only her need, of course. She had already done so much for him, bringing out the man he thought was long gone. Bringing out peace, and hope.

"Now, now darling. You did say I could heal you." She grins and lifts up her skirt, exposing her knees. He slowly kisses her physical pain away. She sits up, swinging her legs on the edge of the bed.

"Thank you Rumpelstiltskin," she says. He stands up and looks her over. Belle loved how he used his hands while he talked.

"Dear, dear, dearie, dear, dear," he says, "It seems I missed a spot." She curls into a giggling little ball as he showers her with kisses, laughing. He senses someone else in the room, and makes himself invisible. He sees the maid, standing in the corner. He swears, realizing that he had put his guard down while teasing her.

"Rumpelstiltskin. Their is only one person that makes little Isabelle laugh like that and I am afraid that would be you. Now release the invisibility spell if you would mind." Her voice shakes slightly, revealing her fear. That was good. If she feared him, their secret would stay just that.

"Now, now, now, no need to be so hasty," he says, appearing before her. She steps back.

"What do you seek with the girl Rumpelstiltskin? She adores you, and I your reputation precedes you. Why have you done this?"

"Done what?" he says, his imp voice returning. He bares his rotten teeth at her.

"Stepped in as a father figure. That isn't how you work, dark one. Their is nothing you get in return out of this." He scoffs at the remark. He got everything out of this. Father figure? He would make a pathetic one indeed. Who wants a demon?

"You are right," he spits at her. "What I get out of this, is none of your concern. If you ask me, you should be more concerned about what I will do to you for meddling in my business affairs." She stares at him.

"If you keep all this to yourself, I won't kill you right now. But the moment word slip I will enjoy skinning you over and over in my dungeon, for the rest of your already pathetic life," he says.  
"Your choice dearie." She looks back down at her clothes and then at Belle. He had temporarily put her in a daze.

"I am not concerned with telling anyone of your little princess," she says. "As long as you never hurt her. So much as a scrape, and the news is out," she says, threateningly. _Brave woman_ he thinks.

"I shall never hurt her. She is a princess and I intend on treating her as such." The elderly maids eyes gleam with something untold. Like she knew something he didn't.

"That is all I ask." She picks up her laundry and carries it out. She better not tell anyone. The only reason she was still alive was because he knew the girl loved her. But, father figure? Not on his worst day.

Braking her out of her daze he continues to kiss her little body until nearly every inch was covered. She continues to laugh and he finds himself relaxed again in minutes. She was so precious. Like an angel. He stops eventually and she lays on his stomach, telling him all about the ogers and a place in wonderland, where dandilions shone like the sun. He combs through her hair with his fingers, and isn't surprised when she falls asleep. It was eight o clock, her usual bedtime. A father figure? How could he ever do that? _You cant. You have already given to much of your time and trust to this girl. You could never make her happy._ He pulls her blanket over them and tries to fight the demons. What on earth had he done?


	5. Chapter 5: Everything Lost

**I do not own any of the Once Upon A Time Characters**

Everything lost

Isabelle was still asleep, curled up in a little ball on his stomach. Rays of sunshine light up her little face. He smiles. His second chance at fatherhood and a good life was right here, never minding his scales and always content. Her father hadn't even come in last night and the maid ignored him, which he was grateful for. He wasn't fond of her at all, knowing that she knew he was helping Belle. It was a weakness, this love, and he wanted it to stay between the two of them.

She stirs and tilts her head up, her crystal eyes filled with joy. He uses his magic to assure that nobody was near her room. It would not bode well for anyone who caught him caring for this child. Better to keep those gruesome deaths to a minimum.

"Finally awake," he says. She climbs off him and sits at the end of her bed.

"I suppose so. I hope I didn't keep you up last night." He shakes his head. He had slept a little bit last night but sleep never came easy these days.

"You slept in the same position all night Belle. Are you not sore?" She looks at him, confused.

"Of course not." He stands up and stretches, wincing at a pain in his knee. Magic took care of most of it, but it couldn't get rid of it. "Thank you for staying with me last night."

"Its nothing dearie. But you must keep this between the two of us." She nods her head.

"I will, don't worry. I won't tell a single soul." She grabs her brush and tries to brush the tangles out of her hair. They fall perfectly in little locks. He hears the maid coming, and disappears.

"Isabelle French, you are about to miss breakfast with your father. We need to hurry up and dress you before he becomes angry." She searches through her drawers. Suddenly, he is jerked by his knife. He appears, bound and on his knees before the king. His head races. _The knife. How did they find it? My freedom is lost._ He wishes to speak but fear and cowardice keeps him silent.

"So it really does work," the king spits at him. He looks up, baring his rotten teeth. His happiness was gone. Everything he had this morning, had disappeared in the finding of his sacred knife. Anger fumes through him like fire, hatred and bitterness control him.

"You'd be surprised, _dearie,_ what that knife will do to those who wield it." He spits back. He stands before the king.

"I should like to know, Rumpelstiltskin, or should I say, slave." The guards laugh and grab his arms, dragging him away. "Take him to the East Wing. Fill it with straw and a spinning wheel." He walks up to him and lifts his jaw with the knife. It burns against his skin. "You will spin me gold and do as I ask, pet. You are under my control now," he seethes. He tries to fight but the knife forces his body otherwise.

"I will find that knife, dearie. And as soon as I do, I shall destroy your kingdom!" he yells. The king grabs his throat.

"That would be _your majesty,_ pet," he says. "You will never find this knife, and everyone shall know who captured the monster." His eyes blaze with hate. When he found that knife...

&?&

Isabelle ate a silent breakfast with her father. She could practically hear her heartbeat, and judging by his facial expression, she would have to initiate any conversation.

"Daddy, why are you upset this morning? I have done all my work, and my teachers have been very proud of my stitching lately." He looks up and smiles.

"Yes, daughter, I am very proud of you. Don't you forget that," he says. "And your mother would be to."

"But what has upset you?" She worried that he had found out about her prince. She would be grounded forever if he did. The king stares at his food. If he told his daughter, she would certainly go to the tower to find the monster. But if she didn't know, she couldn't have that curiosity.

"What has me upset, is none of you concern child," he says. He sees her blue eyes wander down to her lap, disappointed. "But, I will let you play in the gardens now instead of the town. Gaston won't bother you their and I know how much you love flowers." She looks at her father, beaming.

"Thank you daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you," she says hugging him. "I love flowers! And I have always wanted read their!" He hugs her back but quickly stands up. She was a princess, and didn't need to be crawling all over him. She runs out of the dining room to the gardens as he finds the hall in which to hide his knife.

&?&

It is damp and dreary. Nothing like his castle. More like a cage for an animal. No mirrors at least. He couldn't have the queen spying on him. A moldy straw bed laid in the corner. Rats fight over crumbs by the door. He couldn't come out under the kings command. It was one thing to live like this. It was another, to lose any chance of finding your son and spending time with your savior just because of a stupid king who stole a powerful knife. _Your powerful knife_ , he thinks. At least the view was bearable. The gardens were below and he could see the mountains where the sun would rise its agitating face every morning. He sits down at the bench and begins to spin. _Spin to forget. Spin to forget..._ A knock at the door. He sits their, ignoring the grueling footsteps. Whoever came in should have already seen the deep tears in the walls flesh from his claws, and the battered curtains, laying, strewn all over the floor. His fingers bleed and his teeth burn. The pain felt great. He wanted to drink the blood from his very veins, rip the souls of those in this kingdom apart as they watched in fear. He expects to hear a scream, but only silence follows with the small klinks of a tea-set being prepared on wood.

"I will get you better accommodations. Its a shame they would treat you like this. Especially with you working for them." His teeth grind together as his wheel slowly creaks to a stop. It was that bastard maid! Belle's maid. Oh how he hated that woman... The door closes once again and he continues to spin. Why her? Anybody, but that woman. But he wouldn't kill her this time. No, not with Belle. If anything, he would one day be bound to her unless he found that knife. Some people count their blessings. Rumpelstiltskin, would much rather count his curses, which he already had scraped into the wall. He couldn't find his son, he couldn't kill the king, he couldn't be free, he had lost his last chance at fatherhood. Now, blood drains from his mouth from his grinding. Oh..the anger. The terrible, biting, anger in his black soul.


	6. Chapter 6: Following the Roses

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time Characters**

 **Thank you guys for reading! Please review! Thank you RoseRed for your reviews, they have been very encouraging and make me want to continue writing. What do you guys think?**

Following The Roses

He spun by his only source of light, the window. Gold, gold, gold, and straw and then more gold. He had received what some would say... _decent_...care from the maid. But he thought otherwise. She was wasting his time, babbling on about everything accept what he wanted to hear about. Belle. He spun to forget. _Spin, spin, spin..._ It went on like this. Forever. And no, he couldn't forget the girl because he had never removed the spell that kept him in check with her emotions. He wished she would forget their little, unnecessary amount of time together and just be gone. Yet, she wore the necklace, even as she slept. _Stupid child. Stupid, stupid, stupid..._ He counts to five right as the maid walks in. This time, he doesn't yell at her. Or threaten her. He just sits their, because no matter how hard he tries, she never leaves. After dealing with this for five months, his hate had simmered down a bit to annoyance. He didn't have time to hate people.

"I was able to snatch some of the muffins for you today. Hopefully, it will help cheer you up a bit for a change." She begins to pour the tea and puts a bit of sugar in it. "It really would surprise you Rumpelstiltskin what the cook has planned for the party tomorrow. I will be sure to bring you some of the cake." He hears the cup clink down on the table. He wished he could take that delicate little tongue of hers, and stuff it down her throat. He gets up abruptly and glares at her.

"Would you just shut up. Your babbling is hardly worth my time." She just continues setting up the tray. Five months of this. She takes something out of her apron and goes to hand it to him. He doesn't take it, glaring at her and staring out the window instead.

"Its just a letter, Rumpelstiltskin." He ignores her, sharpening his claws on the windowsill instead. He hears her sigh. "If you want people to stop treating you like a beast, then stop acting like one. I feel like even a proper monster would behave better then you." She seethes the words.

"I feel like a maid, should do her job, and just shut up like I have asked you to do a million times, dearie! I don't care about you and your family and the stupid cook! If you want to talk about something, then lets talk about finding my knife so I can destroy this kingdom and move on, to my estate, which is double the size of yours anyways. Okay dearie?" She stares at him.

"Even if I knew where the knife was, I certainly wouldn't give it to you, beast," she says. With that she slams the door, leaving the letter in a crinkled mess on the straw. Probably more demands from the king. At least she was gone now. He picks it up and lays back on his bed. He had a mattress now. It seemed he wasn't the only one willing to do anything to shut her up. He unwrinkles it and falls back on the bed with surprise. In pretty, decorated letters was written the word, _Belle._ Five months. Five months and he hadn't even gotten a glimpse at her. Hopefully this was a note of denial.

 _Dearest Rumple,_

 _Its been a really long time since you have visited me. I hope I don't sound to selfish. But I do miss you really badly. My daddy wants me to act more like a princess, but its really hard to do it without you. And I miss reading to you. I have picked out so many good books about ogeres and beanstalks. I know you don't like ogres. The books are rather good though._

 _I hope you are ok. I asked Nannie if their was some way to secretly get this letter to you. She said their was and stuffed it in her apron. Lately, she has been a little more grumpy then usual. But she is my second closest friend, and she always tells me that I make her happy. If I don't make you happy anymore, then that's ok. But please write back or visit soon. I miss you more then anything in the whole wide world._

 _Your princess._

He sets the letter down on his chest. She still missed him, the monster. A little paper falls out and he grabs it, reading it in a flash.

 _PS_

 _If you insist on being a monster, then at least be mine. But I will never think of you as one. You might win our other battles but I get to win the monster thing. You are not a monster!_

He giggles slightly at this. She was so enthusiastic. Her cursive was adorable. It was quite a pathetic attempt. He would have to teach her an easier way one day. He falls asleep with the letter on his chest. He wished she would disappear. He didn't know what to do with this...Love.

&/&

Gaston was growing into quite a fine young man. Or would be, if he had the same amount of brains as he did brawn. She had to admit, he was good looking. The other girls fawned over him like they couldn't live without him but she didn't have time for that.

"Hows my growing nine and a half year old?" he asks. He had been treating her more respectfully since she had threatened him with his knife. He didn't know that she didn't have the guts to actually hurt anyone. She planned to keep it that way.

"Better when she is alone," she responds slyly. He shakes his head.

"Listen, what else do you want? You are the prettiest girl in town and I need to be seen with you as often as possible. You should consider yourself lucky. Other girls throw themselves at me but out of all of them, I have chosen you to be friends with." She puts her book down and stands up.

"I have had better friends before you Gaston. I wish for someone who understands me."

"You have no friends Isabelle," he says irritated. "The only thing you ever do is read and study. Its time for you to live, and under my care, you shall do just that."

"No, I will not. And I am living. Just not like the-" she keeps the words from slipping. "hyper boy you are." She walks back to the castle, dignified.

"Isabelle French. I have matured a lot since I was young. Stop treating me like a boy and except the fact that I am a man. One that even you might not be worthy of." She rolls her eyes.

"Go hunt or drink or whatever. I do not wish to be in your presence." Just as she turns to leave, a dove lands on her shoulder with a little scroll tied to its leg. She carries the small bird into the house, fawning over it as if it were her own child. As observant as she is being a child, she is ignorant of monster above her watching as it takes place. Or, the way she demanded it, her monster.

Isabelle sets the bird on her windowsill while slowly unraveling the scroll. Surely Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't have sent something as innocent as a dove. She had expected a crow or hawk, maybe even a bat. He had never seemed like one to be so proper. If anything, he enjoyed scaring the living daylights out of her. She reads it, taking in every last word as if her life depends on it.

 _Dearest Isabelle,_

 _I am not coming back to you anytime soon. I will not tell you where I am for very many years yet, for you are young and have much to learn before doing such a tedious task as that. However, if you care to write me, I don't have much to do here anyways, and it acts as a good distraction from my boredom._

 _The necklace does you no good now, seeing that I am now trapped, so do what you want with it. I have noticed your nightmares during the night, and I recommend drinking some mint and lavender tea before bed. It won't taste great, but it will work, as I have tried it many times before._

 _Continue to study hard, for I expect that you grow up to be an intelligent girl. In a few years time, they will stop your studies, for women are meant to be closed minded in war and history. Continue to read. I demand it although I know you would do it even if I didn't._

 _Rumpelstiltskin_

She reads it again and again. Quickly, she sends the dove with another note. Although she was still very lonely, at least she could tell him of her adventures. He pretended not to care, but she knew he did. If anything, Rumple never suffered from boredom. After sending the dove off, she walks downstairs to supper. Her father demanded she mature quickly, and that she had. For a princess never runs, but glides. Never sweats, but sparkles. Nobody could control the adventure that hid itself away in her heart.

&/&

The dove returns and he locks it away in its little cage, hidden in the corner of the room. By now, the only light in the room was the moon itself. He expected the princess to have gone to bed hours ago. He missed seeing her run and laugh the way she used to. Now, she acted more dignified in the gardens, never running or even sitting in the grass. She sat on a bench underneath the tree, with shade to prevent the sun from blemishing her face. He noticed her body maturing as well, her baby fat all but gone. She was growing fast, to fast.

He opens the note, sitting on the edge of the window. The knife would keep him inside.

 _Dearest Rumple,_

 _It fancies me that you are capable of being bored. If you are unable to admit that you enjoy me writing to you, I will have no choice but to accept that flimsy excuse. I just want to let you know, that I indeed enjoy your letters, and your handwriting is quite beautiful, reminding me of mine which could use some work._

 _I don't know what to do really. My father loves me so much; however, doesn't know how to show it. While he buys me all the treasures of the world and tells me he loves me all the time, he pressures me to be a better princess. I am not allowed to run, or play hardly ever. I must speak in a soft, feminine tone. Study hard at my knitting and sewing. Be more mature. I don't understand. Why can't I live the adventurous life I dream about every night. I feel like the only reason I exist, is to produce heirs, and be a good wife._

 _Now, in the garden, I have so many pretty roses. But not one of them is as pretty as the one you gave me. Once it began to wilt, I put it out where my mama stays. She would have loved it._

 _I am so glad to have a friend like you. I hope you can get out of wherever you are soon, so we can see each other._

 _Love, Belle._

He knew the dove, which was hardly even trained, would take a few hours to eat before delivering the message to Belle. He begins to write immediately. Since he wasn't the holder of the knife any longer, the demons were almost non-existent. Instead, they would slowly take over her father. He loved the girl, just as he loved Bae. If this was fate giving him a second chance, their was no reason to waste such an opportunity. According to the books, she was his savior, and that meant possibly leading him to his son. He would do anything for his son, even if that meant allowing himself to have this weakness.

 _Dearest Belle,_

 _Your father is quite overbearing from what I can tell. Just try to bear it until I can deal with him. Perhaps turning him into a sniveling rat would do? Or just feeding him to the ogers. That would be entertaining. Don't let the adventurous spirit go. That will gain you the respect you need._

He remembers being the town coward. If anything, she needed to be spared from such a shame as that. A princess who couldn't stand up for herself was worth nothing.

 _Stand up for yourself and gain power. You will need it in the days to come. Without power, nothing can be done._

 _I am glad you enjoy the gardens. Roses are an interesting flower. The are so rich, and my favorite ones look as if they were dipped in the blood of zues himself. The represent trouble, death, childbirth, and marriage. One can see them everywhere._

 _I would like to know of your welfare. You are very important in my life, and its important that I know what is going on. Just as you have helped me and will continue to do so, I would like to have another chance at that myself. Although you are to young to completely understand this, you are my second chance. I am dark, and evil, and monstrous though. The worst of all the evil things of this world, only second to Lucifer himself. I must warn you, before we go any farther with this... thing. It would almost be better for one as innocent as you to back off, then to let me hurt you. And, even as it hurts me to say this, I will hurt you. -Rumplestiltskin_

It was one of the hardest letters he had ever sent. She was so pure, and he was the exact opposite. He knew that he had always had a low self esteem, even with the magic. It acted like a veil, protecting even the worst of his insecurities. A part of him wanted the girl to leave him, another wanted to save him. It was a constant battle of self will. Yet, it seemed that she could see right through him. Perhaps he could push her away after she had found his knife and sent him free. It would be a horrid thing to do, but effective. Power was everything as long as he had the knife. Without it though, this girl was his only hope. Maybe it was good she hadn't seen the demon he truly was.


	7. Chapter 7: Gamble of Wills

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Once Upon A Time Characters.**

 **Thank you RoseRed for you reviews! :) They have been such an encouragement for me to keep on writing. Belle is unaware that Rumple is in a tower in the castle. Thank you for asking. I will try to be more clear this time. Love you guys!**

Gamble of Will

It was a very dreary evening. Belle had just written another letter, although, it was getting a bit repetitive. It seemed, no matter how hard she tried, he kept trying to push her away. She was going to be ten in a couple of weeks, and she was disappointed that Rumple wouldn't be their. Her father demanded a birthday ball so that all the young men could come and see her. The earliest she could wed was fifteen, the latest was twenty. Apparently, Gaston was supposed to be her first choice since he was the strongest, most well known hunter in the land. She knew him for his stupidity more then anything else.

The dove flies back in. It had been coming faster recently, which was something she couldn't explain. At most, it took it a half hour to arrive. This time, it had taken fifteen minutes. She was currently secluded to her room since she had failed her last sewing test so they had been writing all day. In some ways, she was glad her father was so harsh. I mean, if he hadn't secluded her to her room today, then she wouldn't have had time to write Rumple.

 _Dearie, you can't answer the rainbow. That is made up of many colors. I demand that you pick one color and it can't be black, gold, or blue because those are my favorite colors. The limit is three._

She sighs. Her name wasn't dearie, as she had told him many times before and she couldn't chose just three colors. She was starting to regret the ten questions game, as he was making it very difficult.

 _Rumpelstiltskin, if I must choose three colors then they would be purple, gold, and silver. And yes, I do like gold because my mother used to wear that color all the time. Be content with that because I am not changing my answer again. And, why blue? I mean, I never would have guessed that that was one of your favorite colors. It is a very nice color though, like the sky._

 _& /&_

The bird arrives at his window with this look of defeat. It had already made twenty trips back and forth today. He wondered why he was even wasting his time discussing colors with her. She was quite the enthusiast though, choosing several at a time. The fact that she was writing so often today, meant she was grounded. That didn't bother him, for he had demanded to know of her whereabouts. She was good about telling him about everything, even to the smallest detail of what she had for lunch. She did make it clear though, that she wasn't an object to be watched, and if he started behaving like Gaston, she would never speak to him again. Her independent nature clashed with his at times, but they got along.

 _Dearie, that is a much clearer answer, although I specified that you couldn't use gold. If you insist on it though, perhaps I will allow it this one time. The reason I like blue is because your eyes are that color. It may be reaching a year since I saw you last, but your eyes are something I could never forget, dearie._

 _About the ball, if you don't want to dance with someone, don't. If they insist, then just dance terribly. If I was their, I would scare all of them away for you; bring you back to my castle, and give you what you truly deserve. Now, for the last question. Are you interested in any of the young men who may be at the ball?_

He didn't know why that mattered. Perhaps it was just to ensure her safety. He brushes away the thought and sends it, right as the maid walks in.

"If you want I can just bring the desperate girl up here. It won't be long before she discovers you anyways. She has been mapping the secret passages in the castle since she found them. She has come nearly meters away from your door." He turns around sharply.

"Don't test my patience, dearie. Why would I want to see her? These letters are a mere distraction from my current position with the king. He makes me kill children like her on a yearly basis, and I fear he will make me do the same to her." He walks closer to her, and fear flashes in her eyes. "I am a troubled beast, dearie. I don't need magic to crush your skull." She quickly puts the plates down and leaves. Perhaps to warn Belle. Another letter pops through the window.

 _Okay Rumple, that is a really awkward question. But to put you at ease the answer is no. I am not interested in any of the princes or knights. Satisfied now? And I just happened to watch that bird fly away this time since I am bored to tears. And I would like to have you know, that you can't hide from me any longer. You should be ashamed for hiding from me like that. If you want me to be brave and adventurous, don't be a coward yourself. You are my best friend, and you can't use a tower to change that._

 _Belle._

The words sting like salt to a fresh wound. Again, he was a coward. He sits down, and spins. There would be no more letters today.

&/&

Three weeks. Three weeks of searching and she had finally found the door that led to Rumple's room. She loved the back pathways and halls. As long as she carried a torch, she could always see them. The problem was, he probably didn't want to see her. They hadn't written at all since she had gotten angry with him. However, today was her birthday, which might be an exception. She listens in the room and hears him spinning something. Surely her father hadn't trapped him to spin. They had plenty of maids that would do that. She creaks open the door and slowly comes in. She hears him stop as she stands their quietly, waiting for him to scold her.

"Rumple?" she whispers. He stands up quickly, nearly knocking down the wheel.

"Isabelle," he growls, turning to face her. She looks down, wringing her hands. Silence continues between them. "Why did you come back?" he chokes out.

"Because I missed you. You are my only friend," she whispers. She looks up at him, her eyes glossy with tears. It had been just over a year since they had seen each other. He brushes a lock of hair out of her face.

"Are you happy to see me?" she asks. He turns away, sitting down at his spinning wheel.

"I'm not unhappy," he replies. She giggles under her breath and walks up to him. She had lost the childishness she had had before.

"I will get you out Rumple. I promise," she says. He shakes his head.

"You will someday, but not soon. It will take time, dearie." She stares out the window as he continues to spin behind her.

"You have been watching me." He sits their, silently. "It must have been hard. Perhaps if I would have looked up instead of at my books, I would have seen you." With those words he gets up, and stands behind her.

"Ah, but then, you wouldn't have been able to find me. The books have given you the intellect to find such tunnels." She turns around and wraps her arms around his waist. He falls into her embrace. It had been a very long time. He wondered how she could love such a monster. Afterward, they are silent for a bit as she coils his gold into little balls and he spins it. "Belle, you need to leave soon. People are going to be looking for you." She frowns a bit, setting a coil to the side.

"Rumple, that is what I am trying to get away from. People are always looking for me." He sighs, stopping his work. She does to, and stands up to meet his gaze. He pulls a golden spun crown out of his drawer. It has rubies in the center, while the bottom is lined with diamonds. She gapes at its beauty. He sets it on her forehead, minding his sharp claws.

"Only for a princess, my dear."

"I..I don't know what to say. Its the most precious crown anyone has ever given me. It's beyond words. Thank you." She smiles and hugs him, laying her head on his chest. "I shall come again tomorrow, and tell you all about the ball."

"Perhaps one day, I shall join you dearie. It would be an honor to dance with princess such as you." She looks at him.

"It would be truly wonderful. And, it would be an honor for me to, you see. Because I would be dancing with the person who gave me the world." She leaves at that, and he stands their, dazed. He didn't know what to do with her. It was truly a gamble of wills. What was more important. Power, or her.


	8. Chapter 8 Hidden Age in a World of Glory

**I do not own any of the once upon a time characters.**

 **Sorry for not updating in so long! I have been very busy with school and all so here I am, updating again. Hope ya'll like it! And please review! They are always such an encouragement to me.**

Hidden Age in a World of Glory

"Isabelle French, Gaston _will_ be your dance partner tonight –"

"No, he will – " Belle feels a sharp sting on her cheek as he slaps her. It burns, and she tries to bite back her tears.

"He will, do you understand!" her father yells. She stares up at him and he slaps her arm firmly. She nods, agreeing to his arrangement teary eyed. Rumple had never hit her, not even once. Yet she always felt the need to obey him, like a second father.

After he walks away, the maid takes her to her room and begins to prepare her, covering the bruise on her arm. She scolds her as she begins to tear up, hurt by her father's actions. He had rarely hit her, but tonight he had done so twice. It seemed as she grew he longed for more control over her, doing anything to keep her under him.

The maid stares at the crown before she places it on Isabelle's head, perfecting her attire. At the sight of his beautiful gift, she smiles, imagining how proud Rumpelstiltskin would be at the sight of her going to her first dance. She walks downstairs to her father, who gapes at her.

"You are gorgeous, Isabelle," he says. "Gaston won't be able to get enough of you." Isabelle walks towards him slowly, taking his hand. The king stares at her strangely as she smiles up at him.

"Will you dance with me tonight daddy?" she asks. "Just once...please." He looks around as he nods, quickly pulling away from her grasp. She sighs, trying to bury the pain. He couldn't even answer her, her own father would hardly speak to his own daughter out of embarrassment.

Gaston walks out, handsomely dressed in a navy outfit and tall black boots. His good looks though, are ruined by the memories that run through her head. Everyone stares at him as Isabelle looks longingly at her father, wishing him to change his mind. He glares at her, and at the sight of his firm hand she decides to quiet the protests screaming within her. Gaston giddily takes her arm and leads her into the ball room, making many crude remarks about her figure. She tries to brush it off, however, at the first song feels as if she must run away as he refuses to look up at her face.

"Look at me, Gaston," she whispers. He looks up, dazed.

"I am."

"I mean at my face," she replies harshly.

"Your face isn't the only place that holds your beauty." His grip on her waist tightens and she intakes sharply. "Shut up, doll," he seethes. She stares ahead, ignoring his gaze. Song after song they secretly argue, him having the upper hand as he shows her off like an animal or grasping her with the strength similar to her father, causing her to tear up or wince. She can't imagine the pain she will be in tomorrow.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the king calls, standing. "I would like to offer a toast, to my fortunate daughter Isabelle and Gaston!" The glasses clink as the dance continues and she stares at her father. He drinks with several other men. Excusing herself, she walks up to him, taking his hand. He rips away, glaring at her.

"What do you want," he asks.

"I want to dance with you, remember?" He stares down at her and shakes his head.

"I don't think so, sweetheart," he says softly. "You should be having fun with Gaston."

"But you promised," she answers. He pats her head and goes back to talking, signaling that the conversation had ended. She eats a bit and watches as Gaston throws another girl against the wall, pressing his lips against hers as the girl wraps her arms around his neck.

At the last waltz, he finds Isabelle once more, roughly dancing with her all across the room. She complies, to tired and hurt to spend much more time fighting. As soon as the lights go out, and all the people have left, thankfully, including Gaston, her father carries her exhausted body to her room. She sleeps on his shoulder before he wakes her, lifting the side of her dress after she winces. A horrible, giant, purple bruise the size of that boy's hand circles her waist, along with the bruise on her arm. Her father stands in front of her.

"He bruised you, didn't he," he says firmly. She nods drowsily. "Why."

"Maybe he didn't like my dancing."

"I want the truth, Isabelle French!" She looks down.

"We were arguing." He shakes his head and paces the room.

"I suppose you have been punished enough by now," he says. "But arguing with Gaston? Why can't you be content with him; I have provided you the best boy in the country."

"Why must you and him hurt me when I speak my mind?" He approaches her and she looks down, anticipating her punishment. He lifts her chin roughly, and looks at her sternly. She begins to tear at her fathers continual disappointment in her and the tears fall gently into his hand.

"Isabelle, I just want your obedience. I want the best for you." She looks down.

"I am sorry, daddy," she cries. "I will try harder. Tomorrow is a new day." He removes his hand and walks out, mumbling his disappointment. Half asleep, she changes clothes and does her best with her hair before scooting her bed away. She climbs through the tunnels, looking for her friend. After an hour, she arrives at the door and hears the wheel creaking. It stops, and she sits behind the door, petrified. What if he was mad at her too? The door opens and she falls back on the floor. Up above, Rumple stares at her, his arms crossed. She creases her brow, wondering what that was supposed to mean. He soon walks over to his bed, sitting as she scrambles up to follow him.

"Did you enjoy your ball," he asks, harsher then intended. Why on earth was she here so late at night? She should have enough obedience in her to at least go to bed. She backs away a bit, startled by his tone.

"Not really," she replies, disappointed. He looks up, surprised. She was only ten, if anything she should have had tons of fun dancing.

"Why not?" he asks. She bites her lip and tries to respond, but all she can choke out is mumbles. She didn't want to talk of the night; her father was embarrassed to look at her and Gaston kept hurting her and showing her off. And while all this happened, Rumple was stuck spinning his life away, hardly able to give her any of his time. She looks up as she feels his hand on her arm, gently. Something she hadn't felt in a long time. She looks up, confusion and grief lining her face.

"Daddy wouldn't dance with me," she whispers. "I don't know why, I didn't mean to hurt him again." Rumple gets on one knee, wiping away the small tears the fell down her face. She had come here out of the innocence of a child, wishing for someone to give her a bit of attention. Maybe even a bit of comfort – but why him? Could she never see his piercing eyes and rough, scaly skin?

"Isabelle, your father is a busy man." She shakes her head.

"He has made himself too busy for me. I have been handed off to Gaston like an animal," she says quietly. He pulls her into his chest, picking her up and sitting her down on his lap as he spins. She closes her eyes, trying to fight the tears but cannot. Every now and then, he runs his fingers through her hair, a meager attempt at comfort. She must be exhausted, having been up half the night dancing. He holds her close and notices that what Gaston had done had hurt her to some extent, but what her father had done is what had shattered her sweet spirit. Her sobs become softer and he carries her to his bed, unable to offer any words.

What he would do to her father if he ever got a hold of him would be worse then what any human had ever seen. Here he takes his daughter, exhausts her and refuses her all while trying to insist that she obey him. He lays her down on his bed, trying to hold in his anger. The hurt she felt now would not compare to the fear she would have, having seen the full force fury of the dark one. She winces, and he looks at her, confused.

"What's the matter, precious Belle," he asks. She takes his hand and places it on her side.

"Gaston bruised me while we were fighting." He nods, understanding, and heals the wound.

"Better?" She smiles drowsily, and rolls over as he puts his blankets over top of her. It isn't long before he can hear her small little breaths as he spins, taking in the moment. He couldn't provide her much, only a straw bed and a little of his time but somehow, she never asked for more then he could give her.

"Goodnight, Isabelle," he says quietly. If she couldn't sleep in her room, then perhaps she could find a place here. He notices how dark it is outside, not even the stars shine. _Why do you waste your time with this child,_ the demons taunt. _Kill her while she sleeps, hurt the king like you have always wanted._ He shakes his head, fighting the urge. He couldn't kill her, he just couldn't.

Isabelle wakes up, her arm sore and her legs still tired from those awful heels. Someone breathes deeply beside her and she looks over, noticing Rumple sleeping with his arm around her shoulders. He opens his eyes as she sits up and rubs her temples.

"What time is it," she asks. He sits up sharply and gets out of the bed, brushing himself

off.

"You need to get back, Isabelle. Someone is going to notice that you are missing." She makes her way to the window and looks into the garden. A long vine hangs from his window, and she grabs the top, testing it. A few minutes later, she turns back towards him. He stares at her, hoping that she would find another way.

"Thank you, Rumpelstiltskin," she says. "I am glad that we are friends." She walks up to him and gives him a hug. What had he been doing last night? _Should have sent her back where she belonged._

"I will get out of here," he says. She smiles.

"I will set you free when my father dies and I rule the entire kingdom, just like you wanted." Rumple looks away, knowing that if she set him free, he would not have to come back. Would he do that for her?

"You are growing fast," he replies. "It will not be long." She walks over to the window and climbs down, walking through the garden. He stares at her until she waves, passing a corner and entering the castle. The door opens and he turns, staring at the maid who looks around the room as she sets down the tray of food.

"Isabelle is a smart girl," she says.

"What do you want," Rumple growls, walking back over.

"I just think it would be wise if you told her of the knife. She is wise, and I promise she will find it in a decent matter of time." With that, she walks out of the room. He growls, throwing the food off the counter and scratching the top of the little table into shreds. Who does that maid think she is! How could you taint her little heart with something so harsh! He sighs, sitting back at the wheel. But how little is she now? How much longer until she wouldn't come back, having been married away into royalty and baring her own children to watch? Would she remember him? Or would he simply become a figment of her imagination.


	9. Chapter 9: Indigo Sky

**Hey guys! I do not own any of the once upon a time characters. Hope you enjoy and please, please review!**

Indigo Sky

Trouble was brewing at Isabelle's ripe age of ten. Her father had completely stopped her schooling, locked the library, and forced her to spend nearly all day either sewing, knitting, making different clothes or learning how to run the servants. He forced her to cling onto Gaston as if she actually liked him. He wasn't overbearingly cruel, only hitting her when she was downright disobedient or hateful; however, she still didn't like him. Not one bit.

Rumpelstiltskin wasn't doing any better. He had seen Belle kissing Gaston very awkwardly in the moonlight from his window. He wanted to turn him into a toad, however, his magic was limited to his room. She had kicked him nastily the next night he tried, and he clapped from the window but Belle didn't hear him. Especially after Gaston had slapped her and dragged her fighting body back to her room. Then he wanted to turn him into a flea. But whatever – she hadn't visited since that fateful night and she had other things to do beside explain to her father why Gaston was a flea.

The good thing was, Isabelle had escaped with one book before he locked the poor library. A book that talked all about the traits and habit's of the dark ones before Rumpelstiltskin. The problem was, it was nearly a thousand pages long, and she had almost no time to read with how exhausted and busy her father was keeping her. So she settled for twenty pages a night, learning as much as she could before she finally collapsed. She missed being a little girl, like all the other girls her age. They were free, able to do what they wanted without much grief.

"I must be a leader," she whispers, shaking her head. "I can't sit around moping because my younger days are near gone." Just the other night, she had read about how the knife worked, and that it always searched for it's owner, destroying it's other holders by filling them with darkness. That is what was happening to her father. The problem was, once it had taken hold nothing could ever take it back. He would be like this forever, until he died.

"Isabelle!" her father and Gaston yell. She walks out, curtsying as they enter. _I must be good,_ she thinks, _I must do what they say like a good girl._

"What have you been doing?" Gaston asks. "I expected that you would join me for lunch and you were up here in your room, instead. What kind of woman does that?" Her _how to be a proper lady_ teacher walks by, holding that awful ruler she had learned to hate. She curtsys to the men before turning and speaking to Isabelle in her awful, squeaky voice that even Gaston cringed at.

"Isabelle, when you promise a man that you will do something, you must do that." She takes out her notepad as Isabelle brushes past them. Two strikes for this, five strikes for that. It got so tiring and her hands hurt every day. If she really cared, she wouldn't leave Gaston with a bruised up young lady to care for. According to her law, though, the only way to get a child to remember something is to inflict pain. And boy could she inflict the worst of it.

"Get back here, Isabelle French!" The woman silences the two grumpy men and takes Isabelle's arm, walking her to the school room. She takes out her knitting and they drink tea for some time, talking about old lady things and spreading the gossip, something Isabelle hated more then anything. She had seen what it had done to Rumpelstiltskin. The only person she was alright with gossiping about was Gaston. Of course, that was three strikes, for one never disrespects a future husband.

Once the horrid day ends and Isabelle is left to her room, her father walks in, carrying the knife. Sweat beads his forehead, and his eyes are dark. She stares at him – another spell having taken him over. The problem was, how to get that knife. The punishment she received after just touching it was more then she could bare. She never even got the chance to see Rumple afterwards. He always made her feel better, but now she was a lady and was punished for disappearing randomly.

"Isabelle, you are a dark child, a dark, dark, dark, witch of your mother's womb." He mumbles dark over and over again and she shudders on her bed.

"Daddy, please go away. Why are you doing this?"

"Dark questions, dark answers, dark children," he mumbles, falling on her bed. She steps away as he waves the knife at her threateningly.

"Please, daddy, I will be good," she says quietly, trying to swallow her fear. He gets up and grabs her arm, putting the knife to her throat.

"Get them away, Isabelle! Take them away! There in my head!" She winces as his knife pierces her skin.

"I can't daddy," she cries. "I can't make them go away like you want!"

"The voices child! Its all you! Its the demon you called friend!" he yells over and over. He puts the knife back into his belt.

"Give me the knife daddy," she says, grabbing at his belt. "Then I will have voices!"

"You are evil!"

"They will go away! I will bear them for you, daddy? Will you love me then?" He stares at her, his eyes black as the darkness finishes it's course for the night.

"I cannot love, nobody with this knife can love, you know Rumpelstiltskin, you are his demon!" She screams as he shakes her, her head pounding and her hair being pulled between his fingers. The knife falls out of his belt and she kicks it away with her foot. A gush of wind blows and her father collapses on top of her little frame, knocking the breath out of her body. The spell was over.

"Oh dear," an unusually high pitched voice says. "The king has fallen." Isabelle tries to breath under his heavy frame. Blackness lines her vision.

"Please, help me dark one," she says. The body disappears and she sees Rumple staring down at her, terrified. She slowly sits up, staring at the knife in his hand, the edge of it carrying her blood.

"Rumple?" she asks quietly. "Your the dark one?" He backs away, looking down.

"You weren't supposed to know yet," he seethes. She stares at him silently, waiting for him to tell her that she was different, that he wouldn't kill her. But he says nothing, only baring his teeth while staring at the window.

"Are you going to hurt me now? I was reading a book – "

"A book!" he yells. "A book, dearie, is how you know me now?" She tries to respond but he stops her with a sharp look. "What am I now to you," he spits. "A monster, a demon, a child eater, a bloodthirsty wizard of darkness? I know the names, dearie!"

"But Rumple," she cries. "I – "

"You what!" he screams, shoving her against the wall. "You never came back, dearie!" He knew that she didn't have any time, that people were watching her, even at night. Isabelle melts under his grip and he stands back, disappearing in a cloud of smoke. "Guess the same goes for you!" he yells as the smoke finishes its course. She runs to the corner, hugging her knees to her chest and weeping. Her best friend was gone, he didn't love her like she had always thought.

Rumple throws glass at the wall, angered that he had one, let his knife into the hands of her father and two, completely broken Isabelle's trust. She was only acting how she knew to act, afraid. How many mornings had he been doing this? He looks at the wall where he had scratched the days into a wall. Almost four years. Years later and he still brakes glass over that stupid night. He had felt her pain. Yes, she was whipped when she disobeyed, Gaston had used her in ways that drove him mad. But he could do nothing about it. The king had put up stupid walls with fairy dust, and only tonight could he enter for the first time. The moon shone in her room, cutting through the dust. If her father didn't replace it, he would be aloud in that room until the rest wore off. The good thing is, the fairies didn't know the moonlight canceled out the fairy dust. Of course before today, Isabelle had called over and over, telling him how stupidly sorry she was. She was sorry? For what? Being honest?

That girl, almost fifteen and he couldn't even see her. She was growing so fast, too fast, the maids and guards and teachers were feeding her poison. But it wouldn't be long. The ogres were coming quickly and he would soon hear, Help! Help! The problem was, they are very slow creatures and it would be a long time until they broke through the fairy dust protecting the kingdom.

There was one thing he could do. Which was exactly what he had been avoiding since it felt so backwards. I mean, it had been so long since they had communicated this way, and, how would she know it was him? He summons a few roses and sends them to her bedroom with magic. Would she understand? He wouldn't be surprised if she hated him by now. He pulls out the mirror and commands it to look into her room. Gaston has her against the wall, kissing her violently as she rolls her eyes. She didn't fight him, even though her facial expression makes her thoughts clear.

"Your using all the air in the room," she says.

"Your all I want in this room."

"We are not married yet."

"I don't care, beautiful." She pushes away from him.

"I am getting a bit tired, I would like to get some rest." Oh, how she had grown. Her hair falls down to her waist as Gaston combs through it.

"You don't look that tired," he replies. "It's only nine."

"Well, if it pleases you I need some time to prepare for bed." He kisses her a few more times and releases his grip.

"Of course, my lady. See you tomorrow, and I better not see you with another book." She nods. Nods to the idiot as if he is her ruler. Her father then manages to barge through the door. How exhausting, not one minute alone these days. She curtsys and he bows, signaling for her to sit.

"Child, the ball is tomorrow. Are you ready?"

"I am, father." Had she given up all hope? For goodness sake's, what had happened to his confident little girl.

"You know what I expect of you," the king says firmly. "Will you honor my wishes?" She bows her head.

"Father, I will do as you ask as long as you do not hurt Rumpelstiltskin." Rumple drops the mirror. The king had lied to her! He had the knife now, nobody could hurt him!

"I will not summon him, then, daughter." Seriously? Yes, the fairy dust could make him weak but he knew it was there. She gives her father a hug.

"Thank you." Her father walks out of the room as the roses are lain beside her. She stares at them, opening the little note on the side. She grins a bit, and cuts stems, placing them in a small jar in her bathroom. He shuts down the mirror, laying back in his bed. It wasn't time yet.

By now, Isabelle had decided that Rumple wasn't coming back. It had been so long, she had screamed his name out in the fields until she couldn't yell any longer, praying that he would hear her. That was, until her father put up the fairy dust. Then, she never called him, knowing that it could kill him if he came in contact with it.

Now that she accepted that, she accepted that she was to obey Gaston and her Father. No acceptations aloud. So she did. She was a woman now, and she better act like one. It was the right thing to do. No more being a child, no more refusing to be kissed and caressed. Just do it, and do it for your people.

But the roses. Why roses? The note didn't have a name, however, only one person could conjure up roses that beautiful. And that was Rumple. But how? What if he was seen? The note had instructed her to stay in her room all night tonight, which she did anyways. Isabelle put on extra makeup and a decent dress that exposed her figure beautifully after her bath. Her hair fell naturally in place as she ruffled it up a bit. Was he coming? She hadn't seen him for years. But his booming voice hadn't left her mind, haunting her for weeks.

So when she saw a purple cloud appear on her bed as she walked out, she simply gaped. Maybe he understood, maybe he didn't. It wasn't because she was afraid, not that at all.

"Hello, dearie," he says. She shakes her head, trying to bite back tears. It was him.

"How are you alive?" _Stupid question, stupid, stupid, stupid._

"That, I will not tell you," he says, getting off her bed. He slowly approaches her, staring at her face.

"What's with all the make up?" he asks. "You can't impress me with that, dearie." She looks down.

"I guess not. After that one night I have been wondering if I ever impressed someone as great as you." His heart skips a beat at those words and he paces the room, looking at her mirror and through the one book she had kept. The one about him.

"Look," she says. "I just-"

"You what," he replies. "I come back and you hardly speak to me." She swallows a lump in her throat and walks towards her dresser, opening the drawer. Inside, she picks up the crown he had given her so long ago.

"I just wanted to apologize, for looking into something that I wasn't ready to handle." Her voice cracks a bit and she quickly returns to her normal composure. _Show him you are strong. Show him that you still need him._

"Isabelle," he whispers. "Are you truly afraid?" She turns and gives him the crown, bending lower for him to place it on her head. He does, and she stands taller with it. Wow, she had gotten taller.

"No, not of you."

"Then what do you fear?"

"I fear going another year without you." He steps back, startled by her answer. "All this time, I needed you. My father put up the fairy dust to keep you away, however, I thought after that night I had ruined everything." A few tears fall down her face and he walks up to her, confusion lining his face. "That I would never see you again." She doesn't flinch at his touch, as he pulls her into his chest the same way he had all those years ago. "I am sorry," she says. He sushes her and she quiets down.

"You have grown," he says. "I hardly recognized you when you walked out looking so beautiful." She smiles.

"When will you come back?" she asks. "How long will it be?"

"I will keep that a surprise," he answers softly. She nods, closing her eyes and laying her head back on his shoulder. She was so much older now, he wasn't holding a little girl. He had missed those years, when she would bound to him with a cookie or chocolate all over her face. When she would pick little flowers from her very own garden to give to him. He remembers all those days she thought she was hiding from him, jumping at his cloud and surprised when he caught her instead of fell back. He even missed how she would feign being asleep until he tickled her little belly and she would smile, slapping at his hand. But this wasn't his little girl, this was a mature young lady ready to marry. She didn't cling to him as she used to, but simply rested on him. Where was his little girl? Would she ever see him the same way ever again? He disappears in a cloud of purple smoke. _Run away, Rumple. Be a coward. Be the monster you have always been._


	10. Chapter 10: Just Another Day

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time characters.**

 **Hey everyone! Thank you so much for reviewing and following me! It means the world as I continue to write. Yes, there will be romance eventually, however, I still need to decide how I am going to make it happen. Please continue reviewing! I love them!**

Just Another Day

 _Where had she gone? My little girl. No, she is too mature, to patient and graceful and beautiful, when did this happen? Can I let her grow?_ Rumple broods around his castle, trying to get her off his mind. How could this happen? _It's called time, Rumpelstiltskin,_ the demons taunt. He didn't even know how to act around her. He hadn't even apologized, just barged in and yelled at her. He was the dark one, though, and he didn't need to feel bad about anything. Either she liked him how he was or gave up. He falls back as stress bolts through him like a needle. His mind goes back to the necklace and he disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.

"Please," Isabelle begs, finding herself at the mercy of a drunk Gaston. He throws her roughly against the wall again and holds her with frighteningly strong hands.

"Beauty," he says, pressing his lips against hers. He turns and vomits beside her on the balcony. She fights him but he is too strong, her arms purple from his grip. She sees her father inside, drinking away as well. Gaston forces his awful lips against hers again and worms his tongue into her mouth as she gags. She bites his lip and he yells out in pain, stepping back.

"What that for?" he asks, his voice horribly slurred. She shakes her head, trying to move away. His hand flies against her face and she falls sideways, the force unbelievable. Her ears ring as he continues kissing her and hitting her as she fights. She feels him messing with the straps of her dress and smacks his hand daringly.

"Don't," she pleads. He looks at her for a second and rips the side of the dress. She winces, and he hits her side.

"Don't argue with me, girl," he yells. "Don't argue!" She falls against the railing as he falls against her. He grabs her wrist and yanks up.

"Please," she cries. Nobody in the room comes at the sound of her distress, her vision begins to blur with fear as he takes out a knife, carelessly cutting pieces of her dress and throwing them away. He stumbles, grabbing her wrist and pulling her on the floor with him. She rips out of his grip, trying to scream but her voice is caught in her throat. She feels his hand climbing up her leg and kicks, pleading for mercy. As he stands, Isabelle crawls to the other side, fear wracking her body. She was going to be raped. A sharp gust of wind throws her on her back and Gaston screams. She shakes violently, unable to see.

"Don't ever touch her again!" a voice screams with incredible anger. She hears his footsteps run through the ball room and opens her eyes, noticing that nobody is there. She clings to the railing, trying to breath but not able as her throat feels as if it's closed. Blood runs down her forehead and her ears ring from the beating. Why was she always treated like trash? Her father continues laughing with his friends as Gaston stumbles around. A breeze blows past her and she looks up at a spiked leather jacket and leather pants. He stares at her, his eyes wide and nearly glowing in the dark. She breaks down, falling onto the bench and weeping. Her head pounds harder then ever.

"Belle," he whispers, getting on one knee beside her. "Sweet Belle." She looks over in a daze and stands, walking out of the ballroom. Many stare at her, including Gaston, who nearly drools. She limps up to her room and screams, bashing all the glass figures Gaston had given her off her dresser. At the sound of them shattering, she kicks her mirror over and collapses on the bed, sobbing. Her dress is stained and torn. Her tears making a noticeable stain on her pillow, but she doesn't care. It feels as if she had lost a part of her innocence. Why would Gaston do that? And why was Rumple back after randomly disappearing the other night? She feels him near and sits up, looking around.

"Go away," she says dryly, laying back down. "Just leave me be." He walks up to her bed and sits down. "Please, go," she pleads over and over. Tears begin to stream down her face. "Please, Rumpelstiltskin." She shudders and he lays down beside her, combing her hair away from her face. She doesn't fight him, and doesn't run away. Just lays there, sobbing, curled up in a little ball. He tries to comfort her and help her through the pain, wishing he could just take it away like he used to. How long had she fought Gaston? She covers her face with her hands.

"Belle," he whispers. He takes her hand and softly pulls it away from her face. She bites her lip and opens her eyes, trying to blink back tears.

"Why?" she chokes out. She tries to say more but struggles to form words. He wipes away her tears and kisses her cold hands softly, healing her body. She sighs, allowing him to pull her back to his chest and hold her – allowing herself to accept comfort. Time passes and she eventually closes her eyes, having cried herself into utter exhaustion. He combs his fingers through her soft hair. It is so long, so wavy and beautiful. And she trusted him. She actually trusted him after all this time.

"Any better?" he asks softly. She nods, his sweet little Belle.

"I always try to make him happy," she whispers. "But I cannot." He kisses her forehead and she sighs.

"Nobody can make him happy," he replies dryly. "Absolutely nobody." They lay there for an hour as she tries to calm down after her near rape experience. "I have made a decision." She stares at him strangely. "I am going to stay here, invisibly, until I go through with my next decision." She grins, wrapping her arms around him and taking in his sweet scent.

"Your really going to do it," she says. "You going to be here?" He nods. She pulls back and looks at him firmly.

"Do not hurt anybody unless my life depends on it. If the teacher hits me with her ruler or whatever, ignore it, even if you insist on healing it before I must go to bed. I can and will handle it. It is what I must do as a princess."

"You have my word," he says, standing and bowing his famous imp bow. She shakes her head, grinning and laying back down. By now, the dance was reaching it's end, and Rumple would need to go to bed sometime.

"What is your other decision?" she asks softly. He shakes his head.

"That you shall find out later." She sits up, shaking her head.

"So, where are you going to stay? We have multiple guest rooms –"

"Don't worry about it. I have my ways of getting around."

"Do you need me to bring you food?"

"Isabelle," he says, shaking his head. "Dear. You worry to much." She looks at him, confused.

"I just don't want you to leave." He stands, cupping the side of her face.

"I am not leaving. I promise, I am not going to leave you as long as you live, and as long as Gaston is around."

"What about your dealing?"

"Don't worry. I get around in my own time and way." She pulls away and begins cleaning the glass.

"Go on," she says. "I need to get to bed." He disappears in a cloud of smoke, exploring the castle. Her father is still in the ballroom, carrying on as usual. What a horrid father. Didn't even know she was gone.

The closer he gets to Isabelle, the harder it is to fight the love and keep everything neutral. He did love her, that was clear enough. But how did he let himself get this way? And how on earth could he protect her or take her away with the dome of fairy dust? If he interfered to much, the king could poison him by placing fairy dust in Isabelle. He could even go as far as to kill her, with the evil brewing within him. What would he do then? Rumpelstiltskin watches throughout the night as people leave, knowing that one day he would have to do the same for her sake.

The king leaves the ballroom and enters Isabelle's room. Rumple watches the horror of his evil, silently, unable to act. She doesn't cry out for him, but takes him on as bravely as possible. To her, this is just another day. Being hit and slapped and yelled at all while trying to maintain some composure. Unable to watch any longer, he goes into his old room, filled with dust. This is where he would stay. This is where he would plan the great escape.


	11. Chapter 11: Kiss of a Rose

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time Characters**

 **Hey Guys! I am so excited that ya'll are reading She Saw his Eyes! Hope everyone is having a great Christmas so far! Please review! I love to know what you think!**

Kiss of a Rose

The teacher had hit her with the ruler. In fact, the teacher had hit her with that ruler every day, sometimes even more then once, similar to her father, who also hit her if she actually had the nerve to express her opinion. Thousands of ways to kill each and every one of these people had gone through Rumpelstiltskin's head. But he had made a deal; one which he had no choice but to keep. It was also one, that had forced him to watch her suffer, each and every day. She never called out to him, never sook out comfort. After so many years of being alone with only her maid, her heart had grown strong. She hardly knew what it felt like to actually need comfort, or love, or someone to make her laugh. All those little advantages had been ripped from her the day he had left, and she didn't have the heart to allow them to return. She wasn't _his_ sweet little Belle, but simply a young woman who strove to do her best every day she lived.

He watches silently as she paces down the halls, fixing different tapestries and opening curtains. She didn't know he was there but her voice was a comfort. She sang, not anything he had ever heard, but that didn't matter. Her voice is what he needed to hear, it was a sign that she still lived for more then just having to be queen. The idiot knight walks in with her father and many others. He follows as Gaston lifts her in the air while she tries to look pleased, smiling and pecking him on the cheek. They walk outside into the garden, where he places her on a bench, watching her with his hand in his pocket.

"Isabelle," he says slowly, getting on one knee. Everyone watches her, and she looks at her father who gives her a _You better except,_ look. Why had he made that stupid promise? Everyone in this castle would be under his boot by now, and he would carry her to his castle, above the vile creatures, where she would stay with him. A wind blows and she looks back down as he lifts a ring with two sapphires on it surrounded by diamonds. Bland compared to what she deserved. "Will you marry me?" She closes her eyes and places her hand out to where he can put the ring on it.

"I will marry you, Gaston." He places it on her finger and forces her into another kiss. Nothing is gentle with him, everything had to be harsh and quick. Rumple fights between feeling compassion towards Isabelle and complete and utter hatred toward Gaston. The problem was, which one to act upon.

"So that's it," Gaston says. "No squealing or jumping or showing the ring to everyone?"

"We aren't married yet," she responds. "I need to save the energy for then." He shakes his head and walks away with Isabelle. She actually had the ability to lie. Certainly Isabelle was smart enough to know that he would not let her marry that brute.

What is it supposed to feel like when one gets engaged? Happy, joyful, indescribable? Painful. Regretful. Frighting. But she had gotten away...for now. She had fled, and it was night, into the forest. Her clothes were ripped and the sky was dark enough to express her emotions. She hadn't known before that pain could run deep enough to not allow the relief of tears to come. She tried to cry, to weep. The owls did so for her.

How long would the night last? Here in the forest, where her mother silently lays deep beneath the soil is where she used to dance and pick flowers. It was where she found out that Rumple really cared before leaving, and for claiming he cared all along before...well...before everything. Her wrists burn from the bruises and she sits quietly, like a lady, on the cave floor. Perhaps this was all her imagination. A familiar poof startles her and she stands, leaning against the wall.

"Running away again, dearie?" she hears.

"It's not as if I can do any different. But no, not again nor ever. Simply trying to find peace before everything, even my innocence is taken away."

"Ah, innocence," he says.

"Are you going to force me into another deal?"

"I haven't ever forced you into any deals," he responds. She sits back down and takes off her ring, throwing it aside.

"I cannot run away from this. I will marry him, he will save us from the ogers, and my father will finally be happy."

"Actually," he says, pausing slightly, "you won't." She shakes her head, standing.

"I need to get back. Please, leave."

"Is this how it is going to be once again, dearie?" She turns.

"Are you going to keep calling me dearie?" He is silent. Perhaps if he could coax her into just talking with him, she would come back, even if just for the night. She turns, and continues to walk out into the forest.

"Wait," he says quietly. She stops and leans against a cave wall.

"What is it, Rumple?" She searches for words, seeking everything from him but forcing her body to refuse it. "Why is it that even though you are here, it's as if you are still gone? I see you, but I feel nothing. I have dedicated my life to the kingdom, taught myself how to be brave and speak up and grit my teeth. Why do you insist on having a relationship with me, when I have been taken. My heart lives with the kingdom. I no longer belong to you." He walks up to her as she avoids his eyes, although she can hardly see in the dark. Her face is hard, but still shows grace and beauty.

"Belle, why do you always where this.." he says, lifting the necklace from her neck, "even while you sleep?" She doesn't respond, but shakes her head and walks out.

"I have more important things I must worry about. Gaston needs me, my people need me. Do not try to sway my mind after I have worked so hard to fix it." She walks back to the castle, alone, but still wearing the necklace. He poofs away, into another night of dealing. It would be a long time until she let herself open up to him, not that he cared, but the only time he felt human was when she was around. And if she was meant to save him, perhaps she could rescue his son as well.

Isabelle stares at her necklace, her lips formed in a tight line. The crown he gave her sits on her head above the golden dress her father had given her. _You look just like your mother,_ he said. _She wore that dress right after our engagement. We were the only ones in the kingdom with true love, my sweet Isabelle. Perhaps you, one day will be happy as well._ She puts the necklace down. Her collarbone shows beneath it above the swell of her breasts. The maid walks in and she stands, gaining her composure.

"Isabelle, you are absolutely breathtaking," she gasps, taking her hand. She waited, waited for her to tell her this is what her mother wanted her to have when she became engaged, a note, a piece of jewelry. But she says nothing more, and simply guides her to stand before her father. He gapes at her, and she sees tears begin to fall down his old, withered cheeks.

"Isabelle," he breathes. "Daughter." She looks down. _Daughter._ Had she ever truly been that? Or just a girl learning to become queen? "Three weeks ago you were engaged to Gaston. Sixteen years ago, I held you in my arms." He stands, and takes her arm. "I must now give you away, to another." He puts his head down.

"Father, I will always be yours." He looks to her, his brown eyes glistening.

"Just like your mother, my sweet girl. As beautiful as the day we met." He clears his throat and guides her into the ballroom. Lights are everywhere, and the people cheer as she enters, no longer a little girl. Her ring shines as Gaston runs to meet her, bringing her in for another kiss. Everything is a blur, the people, the lights. She pulls away, already tasting alcohol in his breath.

"What's with the crown?" he asks, gaping at it.

"A close friend made it for me," she responds. He stares at it.

"This friend must be rich. I have never seen gold so fine and pure. And the jewels, they are very rare and hard to come by." She nods her head, and they walk into the middle, dancing. She purposely avoids the door leading to the balcony. It wouldn't do for him to take her fully yet.

An hour later, Gaston stops and goes back to drinking with his friends. She stands to the side, knowing that it would not be looked upon kindly if she danced with another. Her father does not drink, but stares blindly ahead in his chair. Food piles up on a table near the side and she walks over. Eating can heal a broken heart. But was her heart broken, or just concerned? If Gaston could not stay away from drink on her engagement party, then he wouldn't on her wedding night either. She takes a few bites and sees the wine glimmering in the corner. It looks so good, so sweet, so relieving. The server pours her a glass and she lifts it to her lips. It is bitter, but beautifully so. She enjoys the burn as it washes down her throat.

"Drinking, dearie?" She hears. She downs the rest and demands more. He shouldn't be here. He had never come before and he shouldn't be here. She looks around but sees nobody. A purple poof in the distance brings her back, and she sees him walking towards her dressed handsomely in his silk shirt, the pink one she had completely forgotten he had.

"People are going to see you," she says when he gets closer. He offers his hand and she looks at him, confused. "What are you doing?"

"Distracting you. Now come along, dearie, and you shall see how." He has that awful, playful glint in his eyes, the one that says that this isn't going to be something particularly good. But if she could let go, just for a night – if she could forget, and just be herself until morning, perhaps things would turn out all right. She sets the glass down and takes his hand. He leads her out into the garden, where the rose bush he had helped her plant years ago blooms. "Belle," he says. She shakes her head and lets go of his hand, placing her arms around his neck.

She takes off her ring and hands it to him. "You see this," she says dryly. He nods, looking at her confused. "Make it go away. Please," she whispers, realizing that she was breaking. "Just –" He places a finger on her lips and it disappears in a little cloud of purple smoke. Another one appears, and he takes her hand. She looks up.

"Perhaps this one will do, my flower?" he asks. It is much more beautiful, stones and diamonds of the highest quality forming the entire thing. It shines in the moonlight.

"How did – "

"I just knew."

"But you always know," she says quietly. "You have always known." He brushes hair out of her face. "Kiss me." He steps back, startled. "Just once."

"You must have had to much drink, dearie. You are only a girl compared to me." She walks closer to him and he backs away. It had been years since he had ever felt so cornered, like he wanted to do something but felt so awful about it.

"Rumple, please." He walks around her and she spins with him.

"No."

"How about, not yet?" He leans against a wall as she watches him.

"Perhaps."

"You aren't saying much."

"I am not going to kiss you!"

"Well then, perhaps you will dance?" He sighs, and does his famous imp bow.

"If you will have me." She wraps her arms around his neck and they dance to the music playing above them. She lays her head on his chest, finally relaxed. He smells so sweet, like rosemary and straw and parsley. His breaths fall softly on her forehead as she listens to his heartbeat. He places his head over top of hers. "Belle," he says. "If you meet me in the library, two days from now, I will kiss you."

"The library is locked, my dear prince," she replies.

"Not when I tell it to let you enter."

"Then I shall enter." The music begins to slow and she closes her eyes, knowing that she must return. He combs his fingers through her hair and with sad whisper, they are back in the ballroom. She lets go of him and turns away, walking back through the crowds where her father waits, the ring still upon her finger.


	12. Chapter 12: Love is What She Needed

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time Characters**

 **Hey everyone! Please review and tell me what you think! I want to know!**

Love is What She Needed

"I just need a few minutes," Isabelle pleads with Gaston. "Just give me ten minutes, and I will gladly eat lunch with you. I promised a friend of mine I would do something." She looks at the time. If she didn't show up soon, it was going to be too late.

"Okay," he says. "But I will be waiting." She pecks him on the cheek and walks off, waiting until far off to check her state in the mirror. Today was the day. She fluffs her hair and sprays a little perfume on. She hears footsteps and walks calmly towards the library, holding her composure. Her stomach flutters with nerves, when had she loved him? The ring shines on her finger with the engagement ring, which she temporally disposes of. Ten more steps, nine more steps. The doors were so close. She looks up at the tall doors and takes a deep breath, regaining her composure. She must be, and act like a woman. The doors open at her command and she steps slowly in, walking through the shelves. Was he here? The books quickly become less important then finding her secret lover. She combs through the dusty place, waiting and watching. His scent lingers, letting her know that he had been here.

"Belle," she hears him whisper. She looks up and notices him posing dramatically on a tall ladder. With a poof he is beside her, and she steps back.

"I am glad you are here," she says. "I could not find you." He stares at her, noticing once more her beautiful figure and her gorgeous hair falling down below her waist in waves. He takes her hand.

"You don't even know what to do," he says quietly. "What Gaston gives you is not a kiss, my dear." She swallows a bit and looks up. He cups the side of her face in his hand, bringing her to make eye contact with him."I will show you what it means to be in love, if you let me." She waits for a quip, or a joke. None comes, and she realizes that he is serious.

"Do you love me, Rumpelstiltskin? Truly?" He closes his eyes, trying to find an answer that wouldn't bind him to her.

"You shall know in time." She knows she shouldn't take the offer, that she shouldn't give her heart to someone who may love another, or doesn't even know what he wants. But her love for him is too strong. No matter how hard she tries, she cannot break away from what many call a beast. "I will not kiss you right now," he says. "But under the moonlight, where you belong." He moves away and disappears before she can reply, leaving her with only his scent and the memory of his chocolate eyes. She slowly walks out to eat lunch with the brute. What does it mean to be in love?

Rumple watches her throughout the day, unannounced to her. She would never know how much he watched her. They hardly ever actually met. But when she looked at him, waiting, her eyes filled with spirit and beauty, but also fear, he couldn't take her. He needed more time. Gaston would just walk her up to her room and start kissing away but that isn't how it works. There is a process that leads up to it. The way Gaston loved her is very unnatural. Almost animal like in nature.

He poofs into her room after she had gone downstairs to wash with the maid. The makeup bothered him, it wasn't her. It changed her beauty into something unnatural, just like her relationships. This time though, he doesn't use much magic. He tries to feel it again, by physically filling her room with roses and sweet scents. He opens the window to allow a soft breeze in and looks into the mirror. He quickly turns away, remembering that he was still a monster. With a flick of his hand, it disappears. Much better.

Hearing her footsteps, he stands away from the door. It opens, and he listens to her gasp, stopping to take it all in. The door slowly closes as she looks to him, tears brimming in her eyes.

"All this," she says. "For me?" He looks down.

"Yes, my love." She sits on her bed and undoes her hear, allowing it to fall back into a natural position. She then walks up to him, and he takes her hand. "Allow me?" he says. She looks at him confused, but nods. He bends a bit and picks her up bridal style as she lays her head on his shoulder. He lays beside her on the bed and takes the freedom to heal the bruises from the day, gently taking her hands and finding a few on her side and face where she had been slapped. She says nothing, but simply watches him work as he silently examines her. "You are truly beautifully," he says, making eye contact with her. She grins, looking away from his body towering above her.

"And you are truly the most gentle man I have ever known." His eyes soften, remembering the horror she had to go through every day. She didn't even expect him to be gentle – she didn't know any better. He pushes away the demons one last time and brings his fingers through her hair.

"I am a monster, Belle. If I am to rough, or strong, you must tell me. If I scratch you or hit you to hard or anything, Isabelle, you must tell me. You are fragile compared to me."

"Rumpelstiltskin, it takes a lot more then you think to hurt me."

"We are going to be up a long time."

"Are we now?" she replies playfully.

"But I need you to know something." He shifts above her on the bed. "You will stay a virgin before marriage. Don't even ask for that." She nods.

"I am not asking for that."

"Well then, beautiful, we have a long way to go."

"I am sure we do," she replies, lifting her hands to his head, and combing her fingers through his hair. "But your taking an awful long time." He places his hand behind her neck and softly rubs his fingers on her soft skin, causing her to intake deeply as she closes her eyes. _Take her_ his mind screams, _take her as your own._ It is tempting, but wrong. Not even the dark one could force him to take away her precious innocence. He places his other hand behind her neck and lifts her slightly, bending down and kissing her neck. A soft wind blows and with a thought, the window shuts and he kisses her jaw. She breathes deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck and never opening her eyes. Something flows through her, a love, not even that, nearly a lust for him, a need for Rumple to be there. "I will show you," he whispers in her ear. A single tear slides down her face at the pure joy, and peace flowing through her. She wraps her legs around his waist as he loses himself to her, kissing in between her eyes and her nose.

"I am glad we waited," she whispers. "We needed to wait." He opens his eyes slightly and moves his hands behind her head, gently kissing her lips as she lifts her head for more. She shivers and wraps her arms tighter around him as he sits up, leading her into his lap as she kisses him again. Her nails gently move against his shoulders as she lifts herself above him, kissing the back of his neck, wanting to taste him, to know him. Anything, anything to wash everything away. He caresses her side, all while combing through her hair and bending back to kiss her again, until the need had been satisfied. In seconds, everything is different. She giggles slightly as his tongue finds hers and they rub noses. He leads her again back onto the bed, his chest against hers.

"My flower, I missed you dearly." He kisses her again on the neck and ears, making a path up towards her lips.

"I didn't know – " She is silenced as his lips fall against hers. "never knew what love was." He grasps her tighter as he falls beside her, gently brushing her hair out of her face as she lays her head against his chest, still kissing his neck.

"I know, flower. I know." He kisses her forehead and entwines their fingers. There love would never be the same again. He lift himself up, and goes in once more, claiming her lips for himself as she clings to him, unknowingly pleading for all he could give. He kisses her shoulders and wraps his arm around her waist. She relaxes, burying her face into his neck. She would get more then she had ever known. But he would get more then he deserved. The night runs away quickly, and he disappears in a cloud of smoke as she shuts her eyes, exhausted but in love. But it couldn't last for long. Not with the ring, not with the ogres. She would run away again, through marriage, the difference being that she couldn't come back lest she be named a whore and an adulterer. Perhaps one day, the future would make itself clear, and he would never have to leave her again. **Please review, dearies! 3**


	13. Chapter 13: May a Beauty Live

**Even though I love them, I sadly do not own any of the Once Upon a Time characters.**

 **Hello Dearies! Thank you for reading this story! I have enjoyed writing it. Please Review and give me ideas for the future. If an area needs critiquing, tell me. I haven't gotten any since a few chapters earlier. If I need to restart, I will. Btw, I was wondering, more fluff or not? Am I taking it to fast?**

Mine

"I don't understand, Isabelle," Gaston says. "You mean that you came all the way here, to the

other side of the castle, for no other reason then to see me?"

"Why wouldn't I," she replies. "We are going to be married."

"But you don't particularly like spending time with me." Belle looks down, avoiding his gaze.

"Listen. I am trying, Gaston. But to be honest, you have treated me like trash ever since we met. So no, I don't particularly like spending time with you. But I would rather know what to expect when we finish our vows then be in the blue." He gets on his horse, scoffing at the remark.

"Come see me when you are ready to be a proper wife. Then, and only then, will you see the side of me you have been searching for."

"Which is what?" He looks behind him.

"Maybe not so...forceful." With that, he gallops off, sending dust flying. She rolls her eyes and walks inside, brushing herself off. This was not working. Nothing is working with him.

"Proper wife," she seethes. "Proper girl, proper lady, proper everything. Gaston equals a proper idiot."

"What is that, dearie?" she hears behind her. She turns.

"You don't even want to know." She continues to climb the stairs until she is in the dining hall. Cooks prepare food in the kitchen, not far away.

"I would say I do, dearie," he says, still behind her. She rolls her eyes again, and turns to find him grinning obnoxiously.

"Remind me why you are staying here?" she says, turning back around. He poofs in front of her. She stares at him, slightly enjoying this little game all while also, slightly irritated. "Go find something to do, Rumpelstiltskin." He disappears and she sighs, content. Someone screams and she runs into the kitchen to find the maid throwing knives at a hoard of mice.

"Princess," she says, exasperated. Isabelle sets her jaw hard. _Rumpelstiltskin._ Some guards run in and she walks out. Goodness gracious, the fiend got more crazy the older she got. Almost seventeen and he now entertained himself by scaring the poor cook. Earlier Gaston's horse had _mysteriously_ ran away out of a gate that was _mysteriously_ left open. Just the other morning, the dogs howled for hours at a wall. She stifles some giggles at that. Maybe it was a little humorous, watching the king and Gaston go crazy over these things as she watched from the background.

Things had changed between them since that fateful night. In fact, it had turned into a little game. She hadn't known that he liked her, much less _loved_ her. Fate had quickly proved otherwise. Now, she never knew when to expect him. When she was alone, he would poof and there they were, making out in a matter of seconds against a wall. Footsteps would make their way closer and he would disappear, and everything would go back to normal.

But what about marriage? After she got married, wouldn't acting in this way be adultery? She needed Rumple in her life, the humor, even the darkness. He needed her, the light, the woman who refused to call him monster or beast. She had brought out the man in the dark one. And boy, could he seriously kill it with her. Made Gaston look puny when she couldn't breath but was still clinging to Rumple's lips. But he had left her virtue intact. She walks into the sun room, shutting the door and picking up a book.

"Any better, dearie?" she hears behind her. She leans her head back.

"You are so obnoxious!"

"Am I?" he asks. She leans back and slaps him in the chest as he feigns being upset. He could be such a child.

"You aren't as tough as you make yourself out to be, Rumple. Inside, you are just like a little puppy, who craves attention when not working." His eyes darken a bit at the comparison and she laughs, setting her book down and walking up to him. He steps back, several thoughts running through his head.

"I can be quite the beast."

"Can you now?" He grabs her wrist and jerks her forward. She tries to jerk away but he is much stronger then her.

"Try me." She laughs a bit as he takes his other hand and tickles her side.

"Don't you dare," she says. She grabs his wrist with her free hand and he lets her think that she's got him. It's more fun that way. Almost seventeen year old Belle still hasn't learned that he will _always_ win these little games. It's just how it works. She looks at him smugly as he fights against her grip. "Give up?" she asks.

"Oh no, dearie. The fight has only begun." He twists his wrist and she lets go. He gets her side again and she backs away into a wall. _Oh Belle, when will you ever learn that you never, ever back yourself into a corner with the Dark One._ He places his two hands above her head and leans towards her as she looks for an escape. "Oh Belle, you know not what you do," he says teasingly. She leans up and kisses him; a puny distraction. He pushes in harder, pressing her into the wall more. She wraps her arms around his neck and grins. He places on of his hands on her side an she grabs it, pulling it away.

"I wouldn't recommend that," she says. "I am not as little anymore."

"Still little compared to me, dearie," he threatens as he reaches out once more, just to be slapped. "Feisty today, aren't we?" He walks back over and takes her wrists in his hand as she struggles against him. He pins them behind her back and touches her stomach with his free hand.

"Don't you dare Rumple!" She yells. He laughs as she continues to try to get away.

"Still a little puppy?" She glares at him.

"That doesn't change." He slides his hand to her side and begins to tickle her, watching as she laughs and fights. She had gotten strong. Seriously, strong. "This isn't fair Rumpelstiltskin!" she squeals. He prods her side and rib cage more before letting go. She slaps his chest and walks away, irritated that she had lost. She sits on the couch and she walks over, sitting on the other end and grabbing her book. With a wave of his hand, it disappears in a cloud of purple smoke. She rolls her eyes and glares at him.

"What are you doing?" she asks sharply. He stands and sits next to her, taking in her scent. She always smelled like vanilla and lavender, even as a child. Of course, back then he had hardly noticed. She leans over and kisses him as he wraps his arm around her waist. She stops, giving him a warning look. "Don't," she says firmly. He smiles slightly and brushes curls away from her face, kissing her once again. She laughs a bit and gives in, bending back as his hands tangle in her hair. A blanket falls on them and he lays it beneath her.

"Do you love me Rumple," she asks once more before kissing him. He holds her thigh as he kisses her collarbone.

"You know I cannot answer that. The dark one cannot love." She groans a bit as he shifts above her.

"The man beneath it can. The man who has shown me what it is to be loved." He stares at her, contemplating her words as she lifts herself closer.

"ISABELLE!" a deep voice screams. She jerks as she recognizes it. _Gaston._ Rumple stands as she sits up but it is too late. Everyone, including her father enters the room and grabs her as she sees him disappear in a cloud of purple smoke, coughing and grasping his throat. Her dress tears under the pressure as she is brought to her room, everyone screaming and yelling her name and curses. The king raises his hand and everyone leaves beside Gaston and himself. She lays, crying and tangled on the bed. Bruises line her arm from their nails. Why did he leave?

"Isabelle," her father says firmly. She stands and brushes herself off, glaring at the two of them.

"I –"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Gaston says flying at her and slamming her against the wall. He slams her again as he continues to scream. "You witch! Making out with the monster!"

"He is not a monster!" she yells. He slaps her and she feels blood run down her face. Her father watches. "He is a man!" He slams her against the wall again and she bites her lip, trying to swallow the pain bursting through her.

"He is a demon!" He takes her hand and rips off the rings, throwing them out them out the window before throwing her on the floor. He rips through her drawers and takes out the crown, crushing it.

"No!" she screams, yanking him back. He turns, slapping her to the ground. Her father grabs her tightly by the arms.

"Enough, Gaston," he says. "Her punishment will be fulfilled in the future by my hand." She shivers, knowing that her punishment would be worse then anything she had ever witnessed. Nobody messed with the dark one. Nobody. Gaston flips the bed and dressers, tearing out her clothes in front of her. The rose pedals are ruined with his filth. Her father drags her downstairs as she fights the urge to scream or cry out, deep into the darkness of a high tower. The tower Rumple had lived in years before. He throws her on the floor and kicks her as she yelps in pain.

"What have you done!" He yells, locking the door. "What the hell have you done!" She crawls to the other side where his bed used to be, shaking with fear. The curtains have been pulled closed and she grips a few pieces of hay that lay nearby beside the leftover gold she had curled as a child. Why wasn't Rumpelstiltskin coming? _No,_ she thinks. _I must do this alone._ "Laying with the beast!" he mocks. "My daughter has made her self a wench! What was it! A deal? To get away from me? Gason?!"

"No father! I –" He slaps her and she falls back.

"You shall be punished!" he yells. "Ever so severely! Be at the whipping post in the next hour, Isabelle. There you shall learn your lesson!"

"But Papa!" she cries but it is too late. He slams the door, shaking the entire room. Isabelle cries into her skirts, weeping bitterly at the future. The window is covered in fairy dust, meaning he could not enter at any time. _Meet me at the whipping post._ That is where slaves and thieves are beaten. Blood is shed there, children have lost there fathers and mothers to that awful place. It was so awful – she had never been aloud inside.

Fifteen minutes later, she opens the door and trudges down to where she was to be punished. Tears stream down her face as she tries to be brave, but his voice no longer rings in her head and his hand no longer guides her. She was to be beaten ever so severely, perhaps even more then once to pay for her actions. The ogres were so close, no wonder he acted so fast. _What if I die?_ She thinks, biting her lip. Every step hurts from her earlier beating. Just to be whipped again. She slowly climbs the stairs and opens the door. Guards grab her and tie her to the whipping post. Gaston mocks her in the crowd and her father grabs the whip. She sobs, her tears making a trail in the sand stained red from others blood, now to be joined with hers.

A crack sends her reeling into the bar, screaming in pain as it rips through her dress and skin. Many others follow, and by the tenth strike her head is swollen and puffy with bruises. The crowd cheers at her screams and sobs, they celebrate the blood draining from her back. She falls against the pole, weak, as Lucus rides up on his horse.

"Sir, the ogres are here." The whip cracks again and everyone rushes inside as he continues to beat her. The clouds darken and soon, the ogres can be heard in the distance. Smoke burns her nostrils as she gasps for air, her back beaten to shreds and her dignity taken with it.

"Dearie, you should be careful with her," a familiar voice says. She falls into the sand into her vomit. "Woman are fragile creatures. Wouldn't want her to know the truth, now would you? Now, about your cry for help."

"Save us from the ogres, dark one."

"Don't have the knife any longer, do you dearie? I am going to take something very special from you, in return." Rain begins to fall and she coughs, sore and bleeding profusely. Death flashes before her eyes at the puddles beside her.

"I will give you anything you wish," the king replies. "Gold? Jewels?" Rumple mocks him a bit before continuing.

"I want her." Three words. Three words that she had longed to hear. Three words that may determine whether she lived to see another day.

"No. You may not take my daughter."

"You seem to have little use for her, dearie."

"After she layed with you! I can't punish you so she gets it. But she will live, and she will learn to loathe your very name." Silence echos across the night sky, still pouring out it's tears at the near death of the beast's beauty.

"Very well." She hears him walk away and panics, whispering his name as loud as she can. His footsteps stop as her father yells at her not to sell herself, that she is worth more and he can use her for better than a monsters wench. Four words escape her mouth before collapsing.

"We have a deal." Her blood seals the words as her heart strives to beat just one more time.


	14. Chapter 14: Nightingale Song at Midnight

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time characters.**

 **Hello Dearies! Thanks to peoples reviews, I have realized a few parts that have been confusing, of which I would like to straighten up a bit. Rumpelstiltskin and Belle are in love, and it started the night he came back after four years and noticed how beautiful she was. What really struck the match though, was when she asked him to kiss her. He didn't realize that he loved her _that_ much until faced with the romance, and gave in, realizing that she had grown and he could love her maturely now. Also, in the cave scene Belle was fighting herself on whether or not to give in to Rumple. She wanted to be brave and rule the kingdom, but felt hindered because he was always there as a reminder of her past, a past of having that love and comfort as a child. It was difficult for her to except the love and comfort after so many years so she fought it a bit, but as we see now, gave in. One more thing...Rumple is still a coward, so him asking her if she was running away was him putting her in that position. He figured since he would have done it, then she would do it as well. Of course, Belle is way too brave and honorable for that. **

**Hope everything is cleared up! Thank you for reviewing and please continue!**

Nightingale Song at Midnight

 _"We have a deal."_ Blood, screams, cracks, whips, tears. Someone unties her wrists as she lays there, too tired to move. She falls clumsily on the sand, crying out as sand and rocks infest themselves into her ripped up back. Nothing is said except from her father, who cracks the whip one more time and walks away, leaving her with Rumple. He sneers above her as she is slowly untied, his teeth bared. She tries to move but can't – it feels as if she if paralyzed.

"Don't move, dearie," he says firmly. Suffocating smoke surrounds her and she feels herself on cold stone, heavy with dust. She coughs, smoke still in her nostrils as he disappears in a cloud of purple smoke, leaving her in a heap on the floor. Moving her arm under her, she slowly tries to sit up. Her stomach is in knots and she grits her teeth hard at every breath; she notices her dress in in shreds, showing a now red and brown blood stained slip underneath. Isabelle climbs to her knees just to fall back down again, her muscles tense and weak. "I said don't move." She freezes at his voice. The smell of blood fills the room and she looks up at him. Blood soaks his hair and boots, even his teeth are red. She cowers, never having seen him like this.

"What have you done?" Remembering his attire, he changes into something fresher with a flick of his hand, acting as if she would just forget. "What have you done, Rumple?" She lays back down on the stone floor, the pain worsening.

"That, dearie, was the blood of ogres. You made the deal, now all of them are dead." She shivers as a cold wind blows. He bends, examining her wounds. "He did this...to you." He speaks with a dark tone, his high impish voice no longer comical, but devilish. He stands as she tries to speak but can't, her throat dry and her ability to breathe worsening. "Maurice," he seethes. "He will pay, dearie. He will pay." She tries to sit up again and he pushes her back down. "Move again and your going to be in a lot more pain then you are now, dearie." She freezes as he searches her back and arms again, lifting her carefully up bridal style. She cries out, the pain shooting through her body like fiery needles. His face is twisted in a snarl as he thinks of everything he would do to that king. All the pain he would cause, the blood, the screams. It would be grand to see her father suffer.

He sets her down on the bed upstairs and grimaces as blood stains the sheets. He drinks a bit of water to relieve the taste of blood in his mouth. It wasn't awful to him but it would be to Belle. He runs upstairs and grabs a cloth, pouring a healing potion on it along with some other soaps to fight infection. She moans, nearly delirious on the bed as he sits beside her, cleaning the wounds. She grits her teeth, fighting the pain. "Calm down dearie. Stop fighting the pain." She hisses as he helps her to sit up, scraping out dirt and grime. He had seen people who had been beaten, but never had he seen damage to this extent. If there was skin left on her back, she would be very fortunate. She hisses again and he places one of his hands on hers. She grips it and groans.

"Are you almost done?" she asks in between breaths. He ignores her, running upstairs and grabbing another healing potion. She is bleeding to much. It's a wonder she hasn't passed out. With the help of magic, he freezes her hands and other extremities, knowing that the pain this one would bring was enough to make him nearly end his life.

"I must do one more thing," he says slowly. She doesn't fight but hangs her head, breathing slowly. "Trust me." She looks at him, her eyes gray instead of blue. He holds her wrists and wraps his legs around her torso before pouring the awful remedy on her back. She screams, bending unnaturally back and twisting her neck. Her eyes become bloodshot and she continues to scream nonstop as he holds her still to prevent her from hurting herself. Her nails dig into his skin and he begins to bleed. Scabbing shows on her back and she writhes before going limp, exhaustion having taken over. He lets go.

With a flick of his wrist her back is bandaged and he lays her to rest on the bed before disappearing to his wheel. Maurice would pay. He would pay for ruining his beauty, and if anything, would be shown as a public example of what happens when you mess with the Beast. His eyes darken and the room becomes black as night as the Dark One inside him grows stronger, the man slowly disappearing.

*((*((*((*

Birds begin to chirp outside, waking Isabelle up. She grits her teeth, a faint memory of last night returning. Her head pounds along with her back as she sits up. _Wait._ She thinks. _How on earth am I sitting up?_ She makes her way to the mirror, seeing her gnarled hair. She would have to cut it since the blood had turned it into cement. _Where am I?_ She limps towards the bath and starts the water, slowly unwrapping the bandages on her arms.

"Wouldn't do it like that, dearie," he says. She turns.

"Is there a reason you froze me last night and basically poured the equivalent of hell on my back? Because if I know you well enough, there are better ways."

"Well, there wasn't another option at the time, dearie, so be glad it's over."

"What about the blood?"

"I told you, ogres." She glares at him.

"You mean to tell me that you took that many lives in a matter of minutes, and enjoyed it?"

"I am the Dark One dearie. Perhaps you didn't really know who you were bargaining for. Now, get in the bath and wash up. Breakfast will be ready downstairs and," he flicks his wrist, holding out a potion. "Put this inside. You will be completely better in a matter of days." He walks downstairs and she pours it in the bath, stepping in. She hisses as the bandages disintegrate, turning the water red and brown.

An hour later she steps out. Bandages appear on her back again and she dresses quickly in a white and blue dress. She leaves her hair down, knowing that it must be cut. She dabs on a little makeup to cover the cuts and bruising and walks downstairs, a bit lost. She notices how dark it is. And filthy. Glass covers the floor and she sees multiple bookshelves and stands having been destroyed. What had he done? A cane lays over to the side and she walks past it, trying to avoid the glass. Rumple walks in. He flicks his hand and the glass disappears. "Follow me." She does and they make it to the dining hall, which is nearly three times the size of the one in her castle. She gapes, staring at the size and beauty, along with his gorgeous collection of China dishes that run all the way along the walls. She sits in the chair, wincing as he magically conjures breakfast. Wincing with pain she wouldn't have to be in if he had saved her in the first place.

"Why did you leave me." He looks over, dread written all over his face. "They could have killed me, Rumple. If you would have taken me before – "

"That's not how I work, dearie." He replies sharply. "So don't ask." She stands.

"I will ask. You left, Rumpelstiltskin!"

"That I did."

"If you can kill all those ogres with just a thought, then you ought to have gotten me out of there!"

"Dearie!" he yells, slamming the table. "That is not how I work!" She jumps back, his eyes darker then she had ever seen them.

"Then at least tell me why, Rumple. Why did you leave?" He stares at her. So fricking stubborn, why couldn't she just be grateful he got there when he did!

"Lets say I did rescue you," he says, trying to be a bit civilized. "Then, your realm would have been taken over by ogres because I wouldn't have made a deal with your father. Would you rather I leave the people to die?" She looks away.

"There is more then that, Rumple. You didn't just leave. You left coughing and sputtering. Not to mention, you know that you could have saved them without making a deal at all." He gets up, slamming his fist on the table.

"That is not how I work!" he yells. "I am a dealer! I don't help people without making a deal! It's what the Dark One does!" He pauses, watching her as she keeps her head down, obviously upset. He continues, using the softer voice she was used to. "Anyhow, I couldn't have in that moment anyways because Gaston threw fairy dust on me. I had to come back and recover with dark magic before rescuing you, lest I put my life more at risk and possibly yours as well. So stop the questions and eat like your supposed to."

"I am not a child," she replies, getting up. "I think I shall retire for a bit in my room." He lets her leave. At least the questions would stop and he could get this weird thing called peace and quiet while he ate, alone, like he always has.

*((*((*((*

Isabelle vomits in the toilet once more having felt awful since lunch. She had tried cooking a bit, but it was hard trying to avoid the castles owner in his castle. He had also tried to avoid her, but that just meant brooding and she hated brooding so she couldn't be pleased either way. She heaves again and flushes, her stomach finally empty.

Changing into one of Rumple's shirts with a skirt, she sits on her bed with a book. An explosion bursts upstairs and she cringes, hearing glass fly as he shouts multiple curses. He wasn't the same here. The man she had seen in her old place had suddenly become real. Now, he wasn't just there when he was in a good mood. He was there no matter how he felt, and if that meant that the Dark One was pushing through the man, then that meant she would be yelled or cursed at. But never hurt. Never physically hurt. Usually, she rolled her eyes through it and did the dishes or dusting or whatever he wanted. It was different, going from a princess to a maid/lover/didn't even know if she was a lover anymore. He was so mean and grumpy all the time. It sucked. Another explosion rattles the room and she stands, yelling at him through the ceiling.

"GET THE STUPID POTION RIGHT BEFORE I HAVE TO COME UP THIER!" she screams.

"SHUT UP, ISABELLE!"

"YOU SHUT UP!" He poofs in the room and she stands as he stares at his shirt tucked into her skirt.

"That's my shirt, dearie."

"I know."

"I expect it back."

"Then stop making explosions and go find something else to do!" He poofs away and she lays back down.

"YOU BETTER KEEP QUIET DOWN THERE!" he yells after another explosion. She laughs a bit. Even in his dark state he could be humorous.

Isabelle walks downstairs to make supper. She wasn't much of a cook so it ended up being simple. French onion soup with french bread. She hears his footsteps and cringes, wishing she could disappear. He walks into the kitchen, dressed in his leather dragon skins and looking very, very impressive. It's a wonder he hadn't killed her father yet. She was glad she thought to seal that deal before he had the chance. That deal makes her the keeper of his castle. More like _their_ castle but whatever.

"Trying to cook again, dearie," he says. "Don't set my kitchen on fire."

"I am trying, Rumple."

"I can see that." She sighs, continuing to chop up the onions. He walks out, grimacing at her efforts. She grits her teeth throughout the meal. He wasn't like this before. She takes out the meal to the impatient imp, who paces back and forth across the hall. He motions for her to set the meal down and she does, walking over to him.

"Rumple, why are you like this? Have I upset you in some way?" He stops pacing, turning to her. Her eyes display her hurt as his mind goes back to when he first brought her here. This is where the monster lived. At least when he would visit her he waited to put his troubles behind him but now, she

got to see him no matter what mood he was in. And it hurt. Because his cowardice would show as he spent nearly all day making potions and dealing instead of facing her, the girl who had changed him.

Now, she somehow thinks it's her fault. He growls, leaving to spin. He needed to think.

*((*((**((*

Belle eats alone, having angered him yet again. She is slow, each bite a reminder of what he refused to participate in. Was it her scarred back? Did he like her because of her beauty? It had been destroyed now, her back covered in scar-tissue that would never leave. Perhaps it was her maturity, or her stupidity when it came to cooking and doing simple chores. She had been a princess, and never participated in any of these things. Now, it was if he had so many other things he had to do. They only met twice a day, at supper and right before bed when he would make sure she was alright. Or as he says it, _can't have you wandering all around the castle when I'm asleep, dearie._ Of course, he hardly ever slept. Maybe there was someone else. She grimaces, cleaning the dishes until her hands are blistered. _Serves me right._ She thinks. _Ridiculous, love sick girl._ They had been fighting for three weeks non stop and she still couldn't give up the idea that there was a man in there somewhere.

"Belle," she hears as she walks past the room where he spun. She stops. "Come in here." She shakes her head, obeying against her will. He sits at his wheel, his head low and his hair hanging in the way of his face. "Isabelle," he says softly, standing. "It's not your fault." She walks in, shutting the door behind her. Finding the couch she lays there, listening to his wheel spin softly around and around. It is comforting, the clicking and the straw being softly spun through. A few tears fall as she remembers her sweet maid, and how her dad used to be before he took the knife. How Rumple used to surprise her as she played and when she got older, would kiss her until she couldn't hardly breath. The night he said he would never leave her – the night she saw the real monster who dripped with blood. Now she had made a deal, that she would stay with the beast forever. The clicking stops and she lays still, hoping he would continue. At least they weren't fighting.

"Are you alright, Isabelle," he asks. She nods, turning a bit as to avoid the light. No need for him to see her tears. "Come closer." No room for argument in his tone, she slowly stands, moving into his view. Her tears glimmer, even as she tries to hide them. "Dear, your crying," Rumple says, concern lining his tone. He stands and takes her in his arms, his fingers finding there way through her hair as she cries into his chest. "It's not your fault, Isabelle. I promise."

"But you don't love me anymore. I am blemished, and know to much, and no longer the woman you used to know in my father's castle. It's as if you have forgotten me." He puts his face into her hair and takes in her lavender vanilla scent.

"Belle, you are not blemished at all. If anything, your scars make you more beautiful. But I am a monster, dearie. And now that you have seen that, I feel ashamed, as if something has shattered between us. That is why I have been making myself so busy. To distract myself from you."

"Your not a monster, Rumple," she says, laying her head back down. "You will never be a monster in my heart. You are simply a man, broken and scarred by time, who thinks that no one could ever love him." He puts his hand deeper into her hair. His sweet Belle, always finding the best, even when he treated her like vermin for his own protection.

"Kiss me," he whispers in her ear, remembering that fateful night he realized that he truly loved her. She leans her head towards him and places a soft kiss on his lips. He smiles, and by the time he opens his eyes she has pulled away and sat back on the couch. He goes back to spinning, knowing that she always liked it when he did. She hadn't ever told him, but it always seemed to relax her as it did him. At least they had one thing in common. But how would he ever fix their relationship? She missed her family but had to stay because of her deal, not to mention that he would not tolerate any talk of her father or Gaston. Isabelle had sold herself to his miserable life in a time of weakness. Would she had done it if she hadn't just been beaten nearly to death? What if she hadn't known him? Would she still have come? He spins more ferociously as she walks up to her room. There were many bumps in the

road of their relationship. How could he prove her love, and how long before the Dark One took over and she left? He always hurt the ones he loved the most. Belle would be no exception.


	15. Chapter 15: One Pedal For a Roses Sorrow

**I do not own any of the once upon a time characters.**

 **Hey guys! School started, blah, I will definitely have less time to write. Anyhow, I will try to write a chapter at least once a week. Love y'all! And please review!**

One Pedal for the Sorrow of a Rose

"Here is the cloak," Rumple says, handing it to her. "Now, go hide and put it on. I need to see if it works. Oh, dearie, be quiet if you can."

"Rumple! Knock it off! I am not as clumsy as you think!" she exclaims. "I might even impress you." He turns and sits on his stool, amused. Things weren't perfect between them, not since he had left her to be beaten but they were slowly getting better. She was learning to trust him again and he was learning to resist the darkness. Or, at least, save it for his dealing when she wasn't around.

A few minutes later he walks out of the room, searching through the halls. If the cloak worked, then he would be able to give it to Maleficent and in return, he would get a magical creature. Maleficent refused to tell him what it was, but for the amusement of it, he decided to let her go. She always went beyond and above her word when it came to dealing. He walks into one of the rooms that she had recently cleaned. Finding no sign of her, he moves on to the kitchen, and then the towers. He grimaces as he walks downstairs. Either it worked well, or she was extremely good at hiding.

Something catches his eye under one of the chairs in the dining hall. He walks past it, realizing it was her. Flicking his wrist, he pushes all the chairs away from the table, which to his disappointment, doesn't phase her. He walks through them keeping his head straight until the last second, jumping down and ripping the cloak back. She curses, looking up at him with this look of defeat.

"Did it work or did you know the entire time?" He helps her up, taking the cloak.

"Dearie, the cloak isn't finished yet." She stares at him, amused.

"You knew, didn't you. You...Rumple, were trying to scare me." She turns, heading to the kitchen. "Your going to have to do better then that...dearie." He ignores her, disappearing to work on the cloak. He places a few more spells on it and pours a couple of potions on it. She hides again. And again. Do a few chores...hide...do more chores...hide again...read a book...hide again. And then hide...again. What's even worse, is that she somehow is always able to keep her cool no matter what he does to try to startle her. He messes with it again and hands it back as she looks at him sadistically.

"You've got to be joking."

"Dearie, I am afraid I am not. Now, go hide." She rolls her eyes, placing the cloak back in his arms.

"You hide, Rumpelstiltskin. I will look." He stares at her, dumbfounded, and shoves it back into her arms.

"Your doing the hiding dearie," he says. She looks at him as if he is crazy, sitting on the table and laying it beside her. "Need some incentive?" He reaches out, gently rubbing his fingers across her side. She frowns, backing away.

"Oh my gosh, Rumple, we have already talked about that." She folds her arms. "This is that last time, Rumple." He disappears in a cloud of purple smoke, leaving her no time to argue. Rolling her eyes, Isabelle puts the scratchy thing on. This time though, she goes outside – the weather is beautiful, to beautiful to resist. She leans against a rock near the small lake, the one he had taken her too as a child. She hadn't gone outside without his permission but if he was going to push her this far, then she would be happy to do the same.

The sun begins to falter, leaving her in the dark. Bats fly up ahead, making small black dots across the moon as a shadow falls across the rock, time passing all too quickly. Maybe this was better then doing chores, but it would be more fun if she actually had to hide...like...without a cloak that deemed her completely invisible. She hugs the cloak tighter around her shoulders. _Great_ she thinks. _Now he will never be able to find me._ A breeze blows, causing her to shiver. At least it was a cloak and not a bathing suit. The moon glimmers on the water as she listens to the castle doors slam shut for the night. _Great. Now he leaves me_ _outside alone in the dark until I come back._ Something grabs her and she screams, ripping out of the cloak and running past the lake. She hits someone in front of her and backs away from the figure, who watches her in the dark.

"Really dearie?" he says. "You really think that I would let someone take you? And break our deal?" She stops, staring ahead.

"Rumple? Is that you?" He steps into the moonlight and she gasps as he comes into sight, fully dressed in his biggest leather dragon suit, his hands clasped together. She walks up to him, pushing him into the water before he can react. "You jerk!" He jumps up, pulling her in with him as she gasps for air, the water freezing. She trudges out behind him, soaking wet as purple smoke surrounds them. He lays the cloak on the table and throws a fireball in the fireplace, lighting it up. She stares at it, and back at him, and then back at the fire. She had seen him use magic a few times but never had he thrown a fireball. It was as if it didn't even phase him, and that was just weird.

"Isn't smart to push the Dark One into a lake, dearie," he says, the imp showing through in his high pitched voice. She giggles, shaking her head and spraying more water at him.

"Isn't smart to frighten young women either...dearie," she says, unable to properly copy his accent. He looks at her, how the dress shows her figure as it sticks to her. His eyes darken with lust, her beautiful blue eyes shining at him, her hair a bit shorter now but still curly – Isabelle's supreme ability to challenge him without fear.

"You shouldn't be using my nickname, Belle," he says slowly. She raises an eyebrow, brushing herself off as a cloud of purple smoke re-clothes her in the blue dress.

"I don't understand why you still use it for me; being that you know my name." He shakes his head, brushing off the thoughts the Dark One had placed for his own desires. Sadly, her virtue had truly become a battle. Another reason why he still spent more time potion making then facing her. He steps towards her and she stares at him oddly.

"I use it, dearie," he steps a bit closer, "because I am the Dark One," his hand wraps around her waist, "and I like it when you get a little edgy...Isabelle French." He pulls her closer and she looks at him curiously, but also with a hint of fear.

"Well then, Dark One," she says, stepping back a bit. "I suppose that you have been able to reach a side of me that not many can." He continues to approach her as she backs away around the table. "My mother always said that even the best of us had a darker side." She turns the corner and he poofs to the other side, taking her wrist and wrapping his other arm around her waist.

"You may be right, dearie. I can pull darkness out of just about – " he bends his neck to reach her ear, "anyone." She laughs softly into his shoulder as he holds her tighter, kissing her neck and shoulders.

"You are a big, dark, secret that I had to keep, Rumpelstiltskin. But I wouldn't have it any other way." She brings her fingers up through his hair. "And you know it, my dear." He brings her face to look at him, his eyes serious but soft.

"Do you trust me, Isabelle. After everything I have done...do you trust me?" She swallows the lump forming in her throat and places her hands on his shoulders.

"I do, Rumple. I trust you more then any other man –" He places his finger on her lips.

"Then I have something I wish to show you before we depart for the night." He bends, picking her up bridal style, carrying her up the stairs as she eyes him warily. After a few minutes, he sets her down and waves his hand, causing two giant doors to appear. She gasps, noticing that they are covered in jewels and gold.

"Close your eyes," he says. She does as he takes her hand. She stiffens. "I'm not the clumsy one, dearie," he says, "I won't let you fall." She relaxes as he guides her inside the golden library. With a flick of his hand, it lights up and he pulls back the curtains. With his assurance, she slowly opens them, falling back against his chest in awe. She tries to find words but can't, the beauty indescribable. "Are you happy, Belle?" he asks. She walks over to the window sill, and notices his name engraved in the gold. She runs her fingers softly across it and answers teary eyed.

"Happy cannot describe how I feel, Rumpelstiltskin. I am overjoyed...wait...did you make this?" He walks up to her and she takes his hand. His heart beats faster, nervous.

"That I did, my dear. It was a great project while I was alone, on rainier days."

"Thank you, Rumple. Thank you so very much. You have no idea how much this means to me."

He watches her sort through the books, reading the titles aloud until eventually, she comes upon one that she remembers from her childhood. He had found it, hidden beneath her bed one day and had took it for his own enjoyment. Of course, he already knew the story very well. "The Velveteen Rabbit," she says softly. "I nearly had this book memorized before it disappeared." She walks over to him. "Let me read to you." She gives him no choice as she sits on one of the couches, opening it and reading aloud. He decides to sit farther away, on a chair he had made out of bear skins a few years back. _I won't let you fall._ The words echo in his mind. _No, Belle, I won't let you fall._ He places a rose in the vase beside him, watching it as her voice flows throughout the room.


	16. Chapter 16: Perfect In His Eyes

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time characters.**

 **Please review! I love to write.**

Perfect in His Eyes

Isabelle brings out breakfast to a very exhausted Rumpelstiltskin. He stares at the table, hardly noticing her entrance. She sets the eggs in front of him and touches his shoulder, startling him out of his daze.

"Oh, Belle – "

"What's the matter, Rumple?" she asks, sitting down and serving him. When he doesn't answer, she takes her hand and ruffles his hair. He grabs her wrist.

"Don't touch me." She stares at him, taking a bite of her food.

"You are very grumpy. What were you up too last night? Dealing?" He stands, his chair making a horrible scraping sound on the wood.

"Let just say," he seethes, pointing a finger in her face, "that not everyone likes to follow their end of the deal." She takes his hand, wrapping her fingers through his, ignoring him when he rips away.

"I did." He clenches his jaw, staring into the distance. "I did follow my end. So please, please stop brooding and talk to me." He turns on his heels, glaring at her and walking away to spin. She grudgingly cleans up the breakfast dishes and goes into the spinning room, wanting to be near him. As she walks in, she sees him slumped over his wheel...crying? Rumple had never cried over anything. She had seen him rip the heart of the most innocent of creatures, yet he had never shed a tear. Not even one. He sits up as she nears him warily, shaking his head and motioning for her to come closer. She sits in between his legs, lying her head on his knee as he strokes her hair.

"Isabelle," he croaks. "There is something I haven't told you." She waits quietly for him to continue, not knowing that her silence was breaking him. "I had a life before the darkness. I had a wife, and I had a son." She lifts her hand, stroking his in a feeble attempt to comfort him.

"Did she die?" He stops, putting his head down.

"I ripped her heart out." She tenses and he grits his teeth. "Three hundred years ago, I ripped her heart out."

"And your son?" She asks.

"I lost him." Belle lays her head back down on his knee while he fights back tears. "I have been searching for him, Isabelle. And I thought I had him, today, when I heard rumors about a magic bean. But they were wrong. I cannot find my son." She squeezes his hand, turning and helping him up with her. She wraps her arms around his neck and doesn't complain when he messes up her hair.

"It's alright. You didn't mean it."

"But I did, Belle. I am a monster." She hugs him harder, allowing her tears to flow so he wouldn't cry alone.

"You are not a monster, Rumple." She pushes back, taking her hands and forcing him to face her. He grits his teeth, hard, fighting the tears that glisten in his eyes. "You can cry," she whispers. "We can grieve together." He pulls her closer, placing his face in her hair before allowing himself to shed tears. "We will find your son. I don't know what happened to him, but I will do everything in my power to find him." Her hair sparkles with his tears, and his silk shirt is damp with hers. Milah had never wept with him.

"Will you forgive me?"

"For what, baby?" she responds soothingly. He stutters at the endearment, hardly ever having been called by one.

"For murdering my wife." She tries to get him to face her but he refuses, barring his face farther into her hair. She brings her fingers through his, kissing his neck.

"Rumple, it was a horrible thing to do and I wish that you wouldn't have done it. But we must focus on the now, and now, you are becoming a better man."

"I was the village coward."

"They should see you now," she responds, laughing a bit. "Let's keep it at _was_ and move on, okay Rumple?." He is silent, knowing that he could never truly change. The darkness could be fought to some extent, but not gotten rid of fully. He couldn't bring himself to tell her though, because she always believed that he could become a better man. And that was more then enough to give him confidence to try. She sniffles a bit and he pulls her back, drying her eyes. She leans up, kissing him softly on the lips. "We will find your son, no matter the cost." He silently places a spell on his lips, knowing that this far into the relationship, it would be a risk to his power to kiss her for any long period of time. He knew that he could teach her many things though, things that Gaston wouldn't have been able to show her in their puny relationship. Ways to love, ways that made him begin to blush to think about. But she deserved it.

"Belle," he says. "Stick out your tongue." She looks at him curiously. "Trust me." She does and he leans down, gently pulling it into his mouth and tasting her in the deepest kiss. She moans, feeling the intimacy and his soft teeth, whether or not they were golden. He places his hands on her back, pushing her as close as he possibly could, tasting her beautiful mouth in his as a tear runs down her face. He lifts his hand and wipes it away as she moans once more, melting in his grip. He lifts her and she continues to feel his mouth, her legs wrapped around his waist as he carries her effortlessly. She opens her eyes as he pulls away, knowing that she needed to breath. She stares at him in awe.

"How did you do that?" she stutters. "How – "

"I have learned a great many deal of things in three hundred years, some of them spent married. Let's just say that between the two of us, you have a lot to learn," he replies, tapping her nose as she kisses him again, giggling as he pulls her tongue into his mouth once more. She grasps him tightly, moaning with pleasure as he seems to know exactly what to do. He walks over to the couch as they kiss, laying her down under him and ignoring her dress as it crawls up beneath him. When she opens up her eyes she pants heavily, wanting more but still trying to catch her breath. He gets up as she frowns, realizing his position above her. He laughs at her utter shock.

"I think that's enough for now, precious Belle. But I will show you more as time passes." She sits up, brushing herself off.

"You have no idea," she breaths, walking towards him, "what you do to me." He bends, opening her lips with his own and enjoying the soft groans of pleasure she emits, refusing to stop. When he backs away, Isabelle walks out, looking back at him every few seconds as he smiles. He knew exactly what he was doing.

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Rumpelstiltskin was one hell of a kisser. And with the way he had been looking at her, knowing that if he just spoke the right words she would do just about anything...well...she had been anything but bored. He walks into the library as she tries to ignore him. He hadn't kissed her like that since that wonderful morning three weeks ago, saying that it was only for special occasions.

"Still angry with me, dearie?"

"That's an understatement," she mumbles, unaware that he could hear her. She flips the page, continuing to read.

"Well, I would like it if you would join me today as I deal."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before toying with my emotions." The book in her hand disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.

"Perhaps. Now, go make us something to eat... _carefully_..." he strains, having taught her many things in the kitchen. She wasn't the best with knives. "And we shall leave." He disappears in a cloud of purple smoke as she wills herself to get up – lunch wasn't going to create itself. She walks to the kitchen, gathering simple kitchen utensils and chopping an onion. Something squeaks above her, causing her to jump. It does so again. _What is that,_ she wonders. She looks up, setting the utensils down. Maybe just a quick peak in the room wouldn't hurt. Curiosity gets the best of her as she quietly walks upstairs and into the spare room, filled with potions and magical objects. The noise becomes louder and she stares into the cabinet, noticing a small spindle. The squeaking becomes more violent as she sees a mouse trapped inside. She stares at the helpless creature, struggling to avoid the needle as it cries out for help, it's big black eyes entranced. _Don't touch magical objects, Isabelle..._ he had said. She cringes, knowing the only way to help this poor animal would be to move the spinal. It wouldn't hurt her, would it? She had poked herself with needles before. It squeaks again, more violently as it's tail swishes around. She looks around the room, and seeing that Rumple was nowhere to be found, opens the cabinet door. It squeaks with rust and she looks behind her once more, double checking the room. He wouldn't mind if she just moved the spindle for the mouse, would he? Plus, she could prove that she was brave...and could do these things without the imps help. She opens it farther and reaches for it,. _WHACK! S_ he yelps as her hand is smacked away. . . _hard_.

"DO NOT!" the imp yells, smacking her hand again. She begins to tear up. "EVER.." he slaps her hand again, the sting of his hand causing her to yelp as she steps back. "DISOBEY ME!" he smacks her hand hard with each word. Tears spill out of her eyes as he slams the door shut, grabbing her hand and smacking it one more time with his. She lets out a small sob, her hand red and burning with his eyes staring at her, filled with hurt and disappointment. "Look at me, Belle," he says softly, not wanting to startle her further. He takes his hand and gently lifts her face. "Do you understand?" She nods curtly, not knowing how he knew exactly where to strike her...it seemed to inflict more pain then that stupid ruler.

"Yes," she says quietly, her sobs getting in the way. He kisses her hand where it burns, inflamed. He hugs her to his chest, feeling awful for striking her but knowing that she could have been severely hurt if he hadn't been there. She sobs into his chest, whispering apologies as he sits down on the couch, setting her in his lap and rubbing his fingers through her hair at the back of her neck.

"It's okay, Belle...its alright...hush now," he whispers in her ear. "I didn't want to strike you but you could have injured yourself...badly if you wouldn't have listened. It was the only way to get the message through." She nods against his shoulder, sniffling quietly. He takes her hand again and kisses it, turning the inflamed skin back to the soft skin she deserved. Isabelle closes her eyes in his soft silk shirt. It was different, being punished by him, because it wasn't out of anger. It was out of fear, it was because he cared and he didn't leave a bruise like her father always did. And he didn't storm out like she expected, just like her father and Gaston would have. He stayed, letting her know that he didn't want to, that it pained him to have to do that. His scent comforts her as she lays there, not wanting to leave the comfort of his chest as he rubs small circles into her back. "I love you, Belle," he says quietly. "I love you more then you could ever know. If you would have touched that spindle, you would have been put into a deep sleep for all eternity."

"There was a mouse there," she mumbles. "I was – " He places a finger on her lips.

"No, Belle, there wasn't. I promise, dark magic will do anything to tempt it's users. Now, look at me." She sits up, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Don't do that again, do you understand?" She nods as his eyes soften, his expression unreadable. "Alright, now to get rid of those tears." She stands, brushing herself off, not wishing to know what his plan was. He disappears with the whispered words, _find me,_ and she shakes her head. She had asked for this, hadn't she?

"Rumple!" she calls out. He doesn't respond and she begins searching through the castle, wondering where he might be. She runs up to his room and opens up the door, adrenaline surging through her. Something hits her from behind and she turns, just to see him gasp and find herself back in the original room. Rumple stands in his room, wishing he hadn't done that. She had always had this thing against him using magic on her ever since that dreadful night. He relaxes as she yells at him from downstairs.

"I am coming up there!" he runs through the room, hiding beside the bed. Puny hiding spot but she wouldn't be thinking anything once she discovered...well...never mind. She carefully makes her way through the door as he holds back giggles. Funny how he could make her so nervous...of course, the way his stomach felt wasn't for no particular reason, was it? Women had never made him this nervous,but of course, non of them were has sharp witted and confident as Belle either. She looks in the bathroom and shuts the door, moving his giant pillows and opening the blinds he always kept shut. "I know your in here – " She squeals as his hands grab her waist, pulling her back against him.

"Now, for my original plan," he says, playing with his high pitched imp voice. She tries to get away but fails. As his hands find her waist she suddenly becomes aware that all she has on is one of his oversized silk shirts and tight leggings. She fights to get away once more, grabbing his impending wrists and pulling. He places his head to her ear.

"I don't know what your trying, dearie, but it's not going to work." She stiffens. He hardly ever called her dearie, unless he was going to do something she wasn't particularly fond of, thinking it was some kind of joke. "You see, women, I have learned through the years, have some very, very sensitive areas of the body. Some of which, I don't have to marry to to indulge myself with." His grip tightens as he wiggles his fingers lightly against her side, causing her to giggle.

"Don't you dare, Rumpelstiltskin!" she yells, turning in his grip. At least she could do that much for her own pride. She hated... _hated_ being proved vulnerable. He transports them outside, still holding her tightly. She tries once again to escape his vice grip, only laughing as he tickles her some more.

"It's not funny!" she giggles, punching his chest. He pushes her up against a tree.

"You haven't seen anything yet, dearie." She pouts playfully, still trying to escape.

"Please, Rumple, please, please, please," he pokes her again and she laughs, grabbing his wrist. "Please let me go." He raises his eyebrows, causing her to erupt into another fit of giggles, leaning heavily against the tree.  
"Let me think..." he pauses, watching her suffer at his pause. "No." He begins to tickle her again, laughing as she fights him.

"Rum..rumple...RUM!" she giggles. "Please!" He stops temporarily, allowing her time to breath as he brings his hands lower, right where her hips meet her torso. She gasps as he touches the area softly, displaying an impish giggle. She glares at him, grabbing his wrist.

"Dearie, I know a great many things about you...one of them being that you are very ticklish. Which means – " She shoves herself towards him, trying to get away. He stands there, unmoved, grabbing her wrists and placing them in one of his hands behind her back.

"Your just digging yourself deeper, dearie."

"So are you, jerk!" She eventually stops fighting, playfully glaring at him. He brings his free hand under the shirt she had stolen from him as she tries to breath through his touch. He tickles her stomach, enjoying her laughter. "Oh my gosh, rumple, please don't do this to me!" she giggles, sucking in her stomach to avoid his fingers. "This is torcher!" He grins. In some ways, she never changed. He gently rubs his fingers over the sensitive area as she giggles, writhing at his touch. He moves a bit lower, right where her hips met and her leggings seemed to begin. She squeals as he laughs with her, the area seemingly the most ticklish of all. "Rum! Rumple! Please!" she pleads. "This – stop!" He moves to her rib cage as she laughs, the only thing holding her up being the tree she was leaning against.

"And of course," he yells over her laughter, moving his arm down to her knee. "There is always the knee, dearie." She squeals as he tickles the sensitive area, shutting her eyes as tears flow from her laughter.

"Rumple! Stop! Please...please...I will always love you...love... please...just stop!" He tickles her stomach and in between her hips a bit more before letting go, watching her collapse at his feet as he laughs. She groans, dramatically falling on her side. He bends, whispering in a very high pitched tone, high pitched enough to put that awful buzz through her head. She smacks his face away.

"Don't you dare, Rumpelstiltskin," she replies firmly. He places his hand behind her neck and drags his nails across it softly, enjoying the moment as she shivers beneath him, giggling a bit before shifting away. "I suppose I will have to disobey more often if this is what I get in return," she replies sarcastically. He kisses her neck, moving down to her shoulders and her collarbone as she lays there, trying to catch her breath. She yelps as he nips her lightly, laughing afterwards and pushing his face away all while grabbing his hands, trying to prevent his prodding fingers. He grabs both hands in his and places both her wrists in the grip of one hand above her head.

"Really dearie?" he asks sarcastically. "Still trying this? Must we start over?"

"Digging deeper, as you would say," she replies, feigning irritation. He cackles, rubbing his fingers over her stomach before she lifts her knees to her chest, laughing. When he stops and lets her wrists go, she reaches for his neck, yanking him on top of her and rolling on top of him, sitting on his stomach with her arms crossed. Memories flow through her, of being a child and doing the same thing, except she had given up faster. But he was there, there making her happy even if it was in ways she didn't approve of.

He gazes up at her, proud that he would be able to one day, perhaps, if she always loved him, marry her. It seemed so impossible, her actually loving the beast. His claws, his sharp teeth, somehow, today he could still make her laugh. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"Rumplestiltskin!" a man yells, startling him as he jumped up, leaving Belle sprawled on the ground. He turns, seeing Jefferson staring at him oddly. "Actually made a friend have we? Or shall I say, lover?" She gets up, brushing herself off and gaining her composure. Rumple turns, looking her over to make sure she hadn't been injured. It was funny, how the same hands that had struck her earlier could be so gentle and loving. Although she prayed that she would never be put through those strikes again, them having been quiet painful, more then she had ever really felt besides being whipped, she also prayed that he would always love her like this. That even when she yelled at him to stop, that he would always know that secretly, she enjoyed the moments when he gave her his undivided, plain old Rumpelstiltskin attention. Rumple scowls in the distance, trying to deal with Jefferson's teasing. She sits on the rock, peering at the lake and the pink clouds that covered it. Yes, she would find a way to get through to him. A way to find his son, and a way to be his lover.

 **Hey ya'll! I know that this one didn't have a huge plot but I wanted to take a chapter to develop there relationship a bit more. Anyhow, hope you liked it! Please review! And I just want to say thank you to those who already have. It means the world!**


	17. Chapter 17: Queens of Darkness

**Once Upon a Time Characters are not mine.**

 **Hey ya'll! Sorry I have been such a horrible updater but school has been shoving tons of**

 **homework down my throat this week. Anyways, I didn't get any reviews on my last chapter so**

 **please, if you have any ideas or advice or just like it please review! Kudos to those who have**

 **taken the time to do so previously! As always, thank you for reading!**

Queen of Darkness

Maleficent had finally delivered her side of the deal – which would have been great if Belle

wouldn't have found the creature. It was a baby dragon, one he was going to raise and then kill for his beautiful dragon leather. The meat would go to the poor villagers and anything else he would leave in the forest. That was his plan. But the little devil found the maid, startling her half to death and then making her fall in love with it. He watches as she croons at it, petting its forehead as it follows her around the house. The way she looked at it, with pure joy. The little dragon swishes it tail, looking over at him and sticking it's little tongue out across its overly huge face.

"My sweet baby," Belle says, dipping the mop back in the bucket and allowing it to splash a bit on him. The dragon shakes, growling as it's tail hits his face. It begins to chase it, spinning wildly in circles as Belle laughs, swishing the mop across the floor once more. _Baby._ He grimaces, forcing himself to look out the window instead. He was _not_ jealous of a fire breathing reptile. He would not stoop down to that level. "What do you think we should name it?" Belle asks, picking up the bucket and admiring her work. "We could name it Rumpelstiltskin Junior. I mean, that would be adorable, naming it after it's master."

"You will do no such thing," he seethes. "I told you, it's not here to stay." She frowns, walking the mop and bucket outside. The dragon follows her, wagging it's tail. Why did it follow her? If it weren't for him, the dragon would have been hunted down in the villages. At least he knew how to kill a dragon properly.

"Please let him stay," he hears behind him. He rolls his eyes, pushing past her.

"No. I will get you a dog, even a horse, but a dragon is not a pet."

"Those creatures are way too tame and you know it."

"You loved that chestnut horse in your fathers castle and wouldn't come out of your room for days after it died. Wouldn't even talk to me."

"It died with its foal, Rumple. And I am much older now. If I could tame a horse when I was seven, I think I can tame a dragon at seventeen."

"You think –"

"I know!" she interrupts. "I promise, I will train it and everything to the very best of my ability, which is very high. Plus, it gets lonely when you leave and at least you know I will be safe with a dragon around." It sleeps beside the fire, curled into a little ball, it's blood red scales glimmering.

"I will think about it." She nearly bounces with excitement, embracing her lover to the point of nearly knocking him over. "But don't get your hopes up, dearie." She lets go, looking back over at the dragon.

"Thank you. I promise, you will not be disappointed." He goes to respond but she walks away, leaving him to think in silence. _I said I would think about it. Consider it._ But no, she had to have the little _beast_. Is that what she was? A tamer of all beasts? Perhaps. Of course, according to the prophecy, she was his savior. He was past the point of taming. Hearing the door shut the dragon lifts his head, snorting a few smoke rings. Rumple storms up to it, picking it up by it's nape and staring it in the eye. The dragon shutters and begins to whine.

"You better learn your place quick," he seethes. "I am the monster here, got it?" The dragon continues to cry, tucking its tail between it's legs and lowering it's wings. "You better watch it, or your going to end up on my plate." He drops the dragon and it scatters away, whimpering. "That's right! Run away, beast!" He turns, shaking his head. He was _not_ jealous of a dragon.

!

Belle tends to the laundry, enjoying the sun on her back as she scrubs the suds across the clothes. The dragon suns himself, blowing smoke rings and watching them dissipate into the summer air. She grins, pinning the laundry to the line. It followed her everywhere. Literally, everywhere. She could hardly use the bathroom without it whining at her door. It even slept with her, curled beside her on the sheets. At least it wasn't dirty. In fact, out of all the creatures she had ever raised it was very clean. A butterfly lands on his tail and he jerks, chasing after it and growling. She shakes her head, picking up the now empty basket and going inside. The sun was quiet warm today.

"Now to my room," she sighs, knowing the mess that had been screaming at her for what felt like a decade. Another explosion shakes the castle and she hears Rumple curse, along with glass breaking. Why did he put his alchemy right above her bedroom? She opens her door and notices shards of glass littering the floor. Magic was so unpredictable. Something nips her heal and she rips around, noticing the dragon wagging its tail. It jumps, nipping her leg and she groans. It wasn't hard enough to make it bleed but would be when he got older. He jumps again and she smacks his mouth, bending down to his level.

"No," she says firmly. He shakes his head and goes to nip her again. She smacks his mouth, repeating the word louder. The dragon puts its ears down, whining as she turns away, unwilling to reward the bad behavior. She knew better then that. Rumple curses again and she hears him pound on her door. She opens it, closing it behind her before the dragon follows out.

"I need you to get something for me." She crosses her arms. When would she ever finish her room?

"What would you like me to get this time?" With a poof a drawing of a purple plant appears. It has six orange speckled leaves and three dark purple pedals with a white stem. She takes it, studying it carefully. "May I ask what this is?"

"It is the yikatcha weed I need to continue to try to make this potion to fight a very deadly poison. The paper will lead you to the plant. Collect a basket full but be careful to avoid touching your mouth afterwards. You won't be talking for a long while if you do that."

"Alright, Rumple, alright." He takes her arm before she leaves, turning her to face him. She folds the paper as he pulls her in for a kiss, opening the door to let the crying dragon out.

"Take him with you, Belle. And I will have supper ready by the time you return."

"Thank you," she breaths, kissing him once more before pulling away. She didn't know the lie held beneath the innocent kiss. The lie held within a curse, a curse he was forming from the plant – not a healing potion. But by the time it was cast, she wouldn't remember. Of course, neither would he.

!

Belle walks through the forest, following the floating piece of parchment. The dragon follows contently behind, chasing everything in sight. At least he wasn't afraid. She squints as the forest darkens, the sun barely shining through the trees. She had been walking for an hour, and it would take least take fifteen minutes to an half hour to find and collect the best flowers in the patch. Surely he wouldn't send her on a mission that would lead on into the night. He had told her again and again about the wolves that roamed the place during the full moon. She wouldn't ever admit it, but the thought frightened her. _Do the brave thing and bravery will follow,_ she thinks, stepping over a log. If Rumple wanted the flowers, he would get them. The parchment stops and she sighs, looking down into a large path of purple blooms. The leaves glow, however, as she gets closer, she has to cover her nose at the stench. Whatever these things were, they smelled disgusting.

The little dragon runs through the flowers, snorting as she collects the best ones. _You don't need to be so picky,_ he had told her once. _A plant is a plant. If it has a small hole in it it's not going to destroy the potion._ She shook her head. It did matter. She didn't know why it bothered her so much but it did. Nothing with holes in it was pretty. It's not like he gave her half rotten carrots to cook with or soft onions.

"There's his wench," she hears, and gasps as the basket is thrown out of her hands. She turns as a pair of hands clamp over her mouth, muffling her screams. She looks frantically for her dragon, but he is nowhere to be found as she is dragged into a cage. A cloth is tied tightly over her mouth and she breaths deeply, causing her head to pound. "I knew it! He actually loves her," someone says. "The beauty and the beast. How lovely."

"Are you sure we should upset the most powerful – "

"I am sure!" she hears a slap and assumes that someone had been struck. "He doesn't deserve to be loved." Her vision begins to blacken and she shivers, falling onto hard wood. "She should open up with a little torcher." With that, she blacks out, banging her head on the side of the crate they had placed her in.

!

After a half hour of listening to some creature scratching and yelping at his door, he goes down to see who in all the realms was this desperate. He couldn't even cook a meal without being disturbed and it was driving him to the verge of insanity. He opens it and is immediately bombarded with a little dragon, blowing several smoke rings into his face while panting desperately.

"Belle," he calls. "Come inside and get your dragon now!" She doesn't answer and he rolls his eyes. She wasn't usually this feisty but she had her days. "Isabelle French!" he yells. No response. She always responded when he called her by her full name. Of course, he always responded to his full name too but she hardly ever used it, saying it was a mouthful. He knew she was teasing, making those moment even more amusing. The dragon continues to pant smoke rings and he bends down to pick it up, just as it runs out of his reach outside. He runs after it and cringes when he feels rain soak through his shirt. Where was Belle? She shouldn't be in this weather. A bird lands on his shoulder with a note and he takes it.

 _You know what we want. Bring it or your wench dies._ He shutters, flicking his hand and grabbing a few potions. He wouldn't let Belle die. Not without killing them first.

!

Belle awakes, extremely sore and with a terrible migraine. She tries to stand but falls, dizziness overtaking her.

"If he doesn't get here soon, your going to meet your maker." She winces as a needle pierces her skin, injecting something thick into her blood. She grits her teeth. "So, how is he in bed?"

"In bed?" she asks, pulling away from the woman holding her arm. "We don't sleep together."

"Lier." Another shock of pain shoots through her head and she covers her eyes.

"Well that wasn't the point anyways," the person beside her seethes. "Where is the dagger."

"What dagger?" she asks. "He owns many." She winces as they inject something in her neck. It isn't as thick but it stings.

"His dagger. The one – "

"He is here, Ursula," a woman with a high pitched voice says. "And he brought the gauntlet."

"So he does love her," the witch says mockingly. Something wraps around her waist, carrying her out towards a cliff. She closes her eyes, her head pounding and the height dizzying her. Would they kill her? Is this why he made her promise to stay their forever after she was caught? The tentacle wraps around her waist tighter and she heaves, the pressure sending her food back up her throat. Someone gags beside her.

"Give me Isabelle or all of you die."

 **Sorry for being a terrible updater. I will try harder this week and of course, please tell me what you think!**


	18. Chapter 18: Ringlet of the Burning Sun

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time Characters.**

Ringlet of the Burning Sun

 _Give me Isabelle or all of you die._

The words ring in her head as she struggles to breath, the tentacle squeezing her rib cage so hard it feels as if it is about to crack. Rumpelstiltskin's voice echos across the rock walls as he continues to spew threats. The tentacle loosens and she cries out as she falls nearer to the rocks below.

"Give us the gauntlet," one of the witches replies, "and maybe, just maybe you will have a chance to save her."

"Oh wait," Maleficent responds. "does not the poison take only a few seconds to begin its damage?" Silence. She looks down, the rocks closer then ever. Her stomach begins to burn and she grits her teeth. The poison, the injections . . . The tentacle lets go and she screams, waiting to be bashed to pieces by the rocks below. Something hard hits her head and she feels something warm drain down her neck.

"There," the witch says. "The wench is yours now."

! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Isabelle gags as something pools up her throat, forcing it back down and cringing at the burn. As she tries to sit up, she realizes that her head is bleeding and forced against a rock in a painful position.

"Isabelle," Rumple whispers. "We need to go back to the Dark Castle." She tries to stand but crashes into him, gripping her stomach in agony as he holds her up.

"Magic," she responds. "Just … the moving thing." He stares at her, trying to interpret the meaning of her words that can barely form between her raspy breaths. She grips his shoulder harder as she tries to find the strength to stand. "The smoke . . ."

"What smoke, dearie?" he responds. She begins to fall and he grips her waist holding her up. She buries her face in his shoulder and he notices the veins on her neck are rising from her skin. Surely they wouldn't actually poison her. Lifting his scaly hand, he gently touches one of them and closes his eyes. She cries out and he nearly drops her as his magic senses the strength of the poison. "No," he breaths. "No no no no no." If he would have known she would have been in the castle as soon as they left.

"Trans. . . transport, Rum," she breaths. "Take me home." He looks down and they disappear in a cloud of smoke into the living room. She shivers, her skin turning blue as he runs to find a potion to slow the poison down. Viles upon viles of potions line the shelves, all of them labeled and most of them harmful. He grabs a white one and runs downstairs, hoping that if he was lucky, it would at least center the poison into one area of her body so that he could remove it. As soon as he brings it near her mouth she shoots up and downs it, gasping for air as the slimy substance sticks to her throat.

"Rumple," she breaths. "Rumple please save me." He cups her cheek in his hand, her skin ice cold to the touch.

"Belle, I need you to listen to me." She closes her eyes, the potion slowing her heart rate. He stands, not bothering to continue. She wasn't going anywhere in this state. "Hold on, sweetheart," he whispers before leaving. "Stay strong, my flower."

! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

The doctor gasps as the Dark One appears in his bed chambers, causing him to drop his tea onto a beautiful, or what was beautiful carpet. He stares blindly ahead at Rumple, his mouth gaping.

"I assume that you are the doctor," he says, already knowing the answer. The man nods his head and his hair falls into his eyes. "Good. Then I assume that you will be able to help my maid then."

"You have a maid?" the doctor stutters before coming to an uneasy stand. Rumple is silent, waiting for the right moment to continue.

"Yes, I do dearie." The man smooths back his hair and makes an attempt to look civilized; it hardly works. "What do you want, doctor. I can give you nearly anything your heart desires, if you will help my maid. You shall be well paid for your pains." At the mention of payment the man straitens up.

"Give me a few moments to get ready, Dark One. I will decide what I want after the job is finished." Five minutes later, the doctor comes out of his closet with a briefcase and dressed in his finest suit. Rumple knew the doctor to be a good man. He always did his job to the fullest, and although he was up there in age – of course nowhere near to Rumpelstiltskin's age – but in human years he was about sixty. And a good man. Perhaps he would not be so fearful if his wife and five children hadn't been taken from him years before. Rumple had watched the once confident doctor turn into a fearful old man in a year after their death. Shame he was not able to save them.

He flourishes his hand and the two of them disappear in a cloud of purple smoke. The doctor handles it better then most, sparing no time to regain balance or his stomach and simply stumbling forward until he finds something to hold onto.

"Where is the lady?" he breaths. Rumple points to the chair all while trying to hide his nervousness. If the poison was as serious as it was said to be . . . The doctor signals for him to come closer.

"How long has she been like this?" he asks while taking her temperature.

"She was poisoned."

"You poisoned her!" the doctor cries in disbelief. Rumpelstiltskin cringes.

"I did no such thing. She was kidnapped now get to your work before I trade your life for hers."

"How long."

"It has been five hours." He presses on her abdomen. The doctor stands.

"She doesn't have long, Dark One. If you want to spare her, I will need you to use your magic to help me move this process along."

"What needs to be done, dearie?" he asks coldly. The doctor feels her stomach one more time.

"I do not know how the poison has collected itself but it appears it has hardened in her abdomen around her ovaries. I will try to spare them but chances are, I will have to remove everything at once which will mean that she will not be able to bare any children." He pauses, waiting for a response. "Put her to sleep."

Trying to show no emotional attachment to the woman laying before him he does so without thought, pacing the room as the doctor works. He does not bother to watch. The man must assume she is simply his slave and nothing else. The queens had proven the importance of that.

"I'm sorry," someone says behind him. He takes a step forward and glares at the doctor.

"Sorry for what."

"I wasn't able to spare her ovaries. She will never be able to have children." Rumple tries to hide the shock, to hide the pain. "You love her." Rumple ignores the doctor and looks over to Belle's pale body instead. "She will live."

"What do you want in return. Gold? Riches?"

"No."

"Then what do you want. I don't have all day, dearie," he threatens, baring his rotten teeth at the man.

"I would like you to pay me as you would anyone else," he responds, "as long as you keep me as her doctor. I wish to care for her, and she will need to be watched as her hormones are not going to be the same after this. It will take time, and patience, which I am not sure you have much of." He ignores the last part and pulls out a contract from the air.

"Sign, dearie, or die a painful death."

! ! ! ! ! !

Light shines in the room and Isabelle stirs, feeling groggy and sore.

"Rum?" she calls out softly. She feels something on her lap and looks across her naked form that is covered with only a blanket. Rumple's head lays on her lap. She lays her head back down and ignores the soreness in her stomach. What had happened? Why was she naked? Certainly she would feel it if he had . . . no, not him. He wouldn't do that her her, would he? That isn't love, and he claimed he loved her. He stands and she pretends not to have noticed his sleeping form as he stares at her awkwardly. She feels a wetness where his head once laid, like tears. Certainly he did not cry, did he? Was not he happy that she was alive?

"Rum," she says. "Am I good? Am I going to be okay?"

"Dearest," he says, getting on one knee besides her. "Belle you are going to be fine." She blinks back a few tears and allows him to kiss her.

"My stomach . . . Rumpelstiltskin, why am I naked?" She pulls the sheet up to cover her cleavage. "Why am I still in pain?"

"Dearest, you were going to die. The doctor preformed surgery to save you. But," he stutters a bit, "but your okay now, right? You are feeling alright?"

"Rumple," she pleads. "Rumple why are you so – are you not telling me something? Should I be concerned?"

"Not now dearest, not now." He places his hand across her abdomen and she shivers, coolness running through her. "Is that better?" She nods, feeling her strength returning. He helps her sit up and clothes her with another flourish of his hand, the towel disappearing.

"Did you see me . . ."

"No. No, you have stayed covered." He goes to the kitchen to prepare breakfast as she recovers. How would he tell her? How would she ever be able to understand what he had done? Because she was with him, they couldn't have children. But he had a month. She would realize in a month that something was wrong. There little dealing in the next few weeks.

 **Please review dearies! Tell me what you think! Do you like it – should I continue?**


	19. Chapter 19: Souls Forever Bound

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time Characters.**

Souls Forever Bound

To Belle's relief, the surgery was healed within a few days, which allowed her to go outside

again and do what she loved – gardening. There were a few things that she could not figure out though. One was that she had been feeling extremely out of balance lately with her emotions, and two, was that she had recently found it increasingly difficult to be around Rumple. She already hid from him seventy percent of the time because of her emotional imbalance, but it seemed that whenever he was around, he too was out of it and was either asking her if she was alright over and over, or pacing.

"How are you feeling, Belle?" She sighs. _Here we go again._

"I am feeling fine." He shrugs and looks up towards his tower, which rocks a bit with the wind. She could never figure out how he stood to be up there with all the rocking . . . it seemed insane.

"It is a nice day outside, with the sun being out and all. It has rained a bit too much for my own contentment these past weeks," he says dryly. She looks over to her little dragon, who rolls around in the grass far in the distance.

"Rumple, what is it?" she says, and pauses, trying to make eye contact with him. "Something is bothering you, and you won't tell me. I am not a child, Rumple, I promise that whatever it is, I can handle it."

"Can you?" he snaps back without thought. He quickly turns away and begins to walk towards the castle, wishing to drop the subject.

"No, Rumple," she says sharply. "You can't just leave me here. You can't just walk away every time I have a question that you don't want to answer. If whatever it is is bothering you this much then clearly we need to talk about it."

"Clearly you need to stay out of my business, dearie!" he yells.

"Stop yelling at me!"

"You stop asking stupid questions then!" She closes her eyes, hurt by his words and preferring to keep her mouth shut then to express the way she truly felt about him right then. He stands there, and another wind blows his hair all around. The dragon stops rolling around and walks to her side. He whines as Rumple and her stare a each other.

"How is my concern for you a 'stupid question' Rumple? Things have changed since I was poisoned. Something happened to my body – I can feel it. Something happened to you, something happened between us."

"I'm sorry, Belle. But I cannot change it. Magic can't fix this."

"I don't need magic. How many times do I have to tell you that if I found a way to rid you of your curse, and you went back to the man you were before the curse, that I would not only love you just as much, but be fine without your magic."

"You don't understand, Belle."

"Then help me. Help me understand." He stands there, his arms crossed and a mix of fear and anger written on his face. He continues to stare up at his tower. He had promised himself that he would tell her every night these past two weeks but something inside kept stopping him. The guilt of the fact that if he had simply gotten her back to the castle sooner, that she may have been healed, that if he hadn't used magic . . .magic always comes with a price. This time, it took his children . . . her children . . . now there are no children for anybody. He knew that she would leave him someday, that nobody could truly love a beast like him but would this be the final string? Would this be what sent her away?

"Rumple," she says. He feels a hand on his shoulder and shuts his eyes. "If you aren't ready to tell me now, then just tell me later. I just want to know." He shifts uncomfortably.

"Belle, don't make me do this. Please, I am asking you, please don't make me do this." She drops her hand and moves hair out of her own face. Her beautiful blue eyes glimmer in the sunlight and he shakes his hands nervously, wanting her to know but not wanting to see those eyes look at him with anything but love, and patience.

"Alright, Rumple, alright," she responds quietly, turning away and continuing to look at her roses. He goes to turn away and is stopped by her voice. "You know I will never leave you, right?" He shakes his head and continues.

Belle smiles as she gets out of bed, and sees that there is no blood. It had been a month and two weeks and although she had never fully _been_ with Rumple, she wondered if maybe he had given in that night she was poisoned, or if the poison had done something to her. She had never really understood magic, but if the poison they gave her linked her and Rumple together in an intimate way, then that would mean that she was pregnant. Surely he would have told her if he had laid with her though . . . it would be an evil thing to do to a woman, but at the moment, she was overjoyed at the prospect of possibly being pregnant. It would make sense, with her emotions all out of whack and all the strange cravings she was having. She quickly dresses and goes downstairs to make breakfast . . . applesauce with ham and some pineapple – for some reason Rumple was never very fond of apples. She brings the food out to the table and sets it down gently as Rumpelstiltskin walks in . . .more like drags himself in and hardly looks at her. He had been getting worse lately, whatever had been concerning him tearing them apart. Not any longer though. Perhaps when she told him, he would be happy and they could move on. Butterflies fill her stomach as she thinks about all the possible reactions – would he want to kill it? No, not her Rumple. He loved his boy, surely he could love another child.

"I told you I don't like apples," he grumbles as he takes his seat. She looks down, happiness draining out of her.

"I brought pineapples out also, Rumple. I was hoping that you liked those better." He grunts and serves his plate. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Well, I have something I need to talk to you about, but not until you are ready." A look of dread runs over his already tired face. "I think you will like it, Rumple. I am certainly happy about it."

"Then tell me. I could use some good news."

"No." He looks up from his plate and glares at her. "No, because you need to be happy for this. How about tonight I will visit you in your room, and we will talk about it." Knowing that this was a battle he could not win, he looks back down at his food and continues to eat.

"Belle, I have something I need to tell you as well, but it won't make you happy."

"Rumple, that's alright." She places a hand on his and waits until he looks up at her. "Not everything you tell me has to make me happy. Do you remember what I always tell you?"

"You tell lies because you do not understand."

"That is a cruel thing to say to someone who has stood by you through everything." He stands and looks down at his hands as she slowly follows his lead. "Let's go up to the bedroom, Rumple. Let's not continue this another day . . . it has been so long since you have even touched me, and you have me a bit frightened to even try to on my side."

"I don't mean to frighten you, Belle."

"Well then come upstairs and we can talk. This must end now before it becomes worse." He stands there, a bit dazed as she walks up to him and takes his hand. "How long has it been since you slept?"

"Does that matter?" he responds sharply.

"It matters to me – you look exhausted." She pulls his hand a bit and they begin walking up the stairs. Judging by the way he looked, it had been days since he had gotten any sleep; possibly even weeks. The dark one will do that to its victim, take away their sleep until they go mad. His usually sharp mannerisms had slowly faded to the point that he hardly even called her dearie, or anyone for that matter. He only called her by her name, that was it, and when he did it was with this long drawn out sigh that told her that he wasn't telling her something and that in all honesty he didn't want to talk to her. He didn't play tricks on her, or giggle when she made a mistake cooking, or come searching for her throughout the day. All that had ended the day after she had been poisoned. She looks down at her belly and smiles. "Maybe you can make Papa happy," she mumbles. _If you exist. I bet you do though, why else would I be late?_

"What was that?" he asks. She shakes her head and turns to the last stairwell. Why did his bedroom have to be so high? "Do you want me to take us up there by magic, it won't take as long." She turns and notices yet another set of stairs.

"That would be nice, if it won't exhaust you too much."

"I am not that tired, Belle, don't be ridiculous." He flicks his wrist and smoke surrounds them. She notices the split second difference of their arrival and rolls her eyes. Clearly he was too tired to transport them both at the same time. He goes over and sits on the bed, closing his eyes as he leans against the pillows.

"What is it, Belle?" She walks over and sits beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He stiffens and she lifts her hand into his hair, slowly combing through it.

"Just relax, Rumple. Please, relax."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because you're here."

"Well that should be all the more reason to."

"Perhaps," he breathes, his high pitched voice returning. "Perhaps." She lifts her head a bit from his shoulder and takes a deep breath.

"Rumple, it has been too short of time to really tell, I don't have any proof but . . ." he shifts a bit. "But I do believe that I am with child." He nearly jumps out of bed and she grasps onto the frame to not fall off.

"That's impossible! How do you know!" he yells. She shakes her head.

"My woman's time, it never came. And I have been having strange cravings and have had a bit of nausea every now and then." She sees him shake his head and begin to pace the room. "Are you happy? Does this make you happy?"

"Of course not!" he snaps. She bites her lip. "This is impossible, not only have we never lain together but my magic would have sensed another body, and . . . and," he sighs and sits on the edge of the bed, covering his face with his hands. "Isabelle, come here."

"Why?" she replies harshly. "Why? You don't want me, you don't want my child! Your disgusted by even the possibility!"

"Isabelle, please."

"I am not going to come over there like some child in need. Either you want me, or you don't you can't want me half the time and loath me the other half that is not how it works!" She gets off the bed and begins to walk downstairs.

"Where are you going?" he calls out. "You aren't going to get anywhere because the stairs to my room are magical." She walks down another flight and pauses to catch her breath. Rumple isn't far behind. "I do love you, Belle, and if you had a child, I would love it just as much." She stops and turns to face him.

"What do you mean _if_ I had a child."

"Belle, that is why I wanted you close. Because what I must tell you now is probably the most difficult news you will ever have to hear." She looks up at him and he holds out his hand. "Please, come back. Even if you run away after I tell you, just come back this once, please Isabelle," he pleads. "Please." She hangs her head, this time being the one to follow. She wasn't with child, she wasn't pregnant or anything it was all just her mind playing tricks on her. He guides her on the bed and sits beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her as close as he could as she lays her head back on his shoulder.

"You know what I always tell you, Rumple," she whispers. "I will never leave you. Never in a million years." He kisses her forehead as a mix of relief and fear course through him at the same time.

"Isabelle, when you were poisoned, they used an extremely potent type that should have killed you within the hour that it took me to negotiate with them. I don't know why it didn't, but when I brought you back to the castle, I gave you a potion to counteract it, and locate it to one area of your body so that it could be removed quickly. Well, the potion did what it was made to do, and I had a doctor remove the poison. The problem was that the poison was in a very specific place. Belle," he whispers. "My sweet Belle I am so sorry. So, so sorry, you have no idea what I have gone through this past month and a half. Belle, the poison collected in your ovaries. He removed everything-" He feels her tense beside him and rubs his hand through her hair. "You can no longer bear any children."

"Oh Rumple," she says warily. He feels her shake and realizes that she is crying. "I am so sorry Rumple, I am so sorry. I wanted to give you a son, and a daughter –" she sniffs and continues to sob quietly, grasping onto him tightly. "I wanted to make you happy."

"Sush you," he scolds quietly. "I don't need children to be happy, I need you, and Bae, that is it." She goes to continue and he places a finger on her wet lips. "You can cry, that is alright, but do not ever doubt my love for you. Don't use this to make me a monster."

"You're not a monster, Rumple," she responds quietly, keeping her face hidden in his shirt. He reaches for a blanket and pulls it over them. The two of them were exhausted, he would never admit it to her but it had been over three weeks since he had slept, and he had heard her crying in her sleep at times. The nightmares of the day she was beaten continued to haunt her.

He holds her close as they lay down, her head on his chest as she tries to hold back her tears. Their silence says everything and she begins to breath deeper as he hums softly one of the songs that she used to sing as a child. It isn't long before the two of them fall asleep in each others arms, the beauty and the beast.

 **Hey everyone! I am so sorry it has been so long since I updated but school just ended so I have been super stressed out. Hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think!**


	20. Chapter 20: Tale As Old As Time

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time Characters.**

Tale As Old As Time

"Good Morning!" Belle says cheerily as she brings breakfast out to the table. A basket rests on her hip for the surprise picnic she had planned. The two of them were desperate for change in mood after they had come to terms with the fact that she would never bare any children. Of course, in his mind, he claims it is better because they would have what he calls 'demon children' anyways. She told him even if it was a demon she would still love it to pieces but he just saunters off like what she claims is spoken without an ounce of intelligence.

Belle sets the basket down gently on the end of the table and looks up from what she is doing, noticing the lack of response. The room is empty. "Rum?" she calls. Nobody answers and she decides to search for him. Hopefully the depression wasn't hitting too hard on him – she knew that deep inside the loss of his son and now the loss of future children was extremely difficult; this wasn't the only mealtime she had to search for him. _Just be patient,_ her mind tells her. _Just be patient, things like this take time. You must give him time to heal just like he did you._

Belle begins with his spinning wheel, and then moves on into his room, and then the library and different rooms he practiced magic in. She even walks all the way up to his tower, simply to find that he is nowhere to be found. "Oh, Rum," she sighs, walking back down the steps. Her legs were beginning to become sore from all the walking. It is worth it though, every second even though that now meant that breakfast was an hour late. She could never eat without him, never in a million years. Something tells her to look outside and as soon as doors open for her and she begins her trek, the basket in her arms once again.

 _The lake, Isabelle, the lake, it is where most of his positive memories lie from back in your childhood, and now that you are a woman._ She begins walking towards the lake. _Follow your heart,_ her mother had always told her. It had always worked, even as a child. She followed her heart with Rumpelstiltskin, and found that he was her true love.

It isn't long before she comes around the last bend of the road, and sees him sitting with his legs tucked into his chest staring into the distance. It is clear that he doesn't observe the beauty of nature around him, and as the wind ruffles is hair away from his face, she can see the tears that role down his cheeks. He lifts his hand to wipe a few away before burying his face in his chest.

"Oh, Rum," she whispers again. "Oh Rum, my precious rum." She wipes away a tear at seeing him so depressed and slowly walks across the field towards him. He sits there, deep enough in thought that he doesn't even notice when she sets the basket down a few feet away. "Hey," she says quietly. He shifts slightly, letting her know that he knew she was there. "It's going to be alright," she whispers. Gently, Belle sits next to him. He tries to speak but ends up just shaking his head, keeping his face hidden. "I know it's going to be alright, Rum," she repeats. He doesn't answer and she quietly lays her head on his shoulder. "I am sorry. I am sorry for everything, the pain, the tears, everything. I'm so sorry, Rum, so, so sorry," she whispers.

Her voice is like music to his ears, but the music is melancholy; a reminder that because of choices he had made, because of him they could no longer have children. He feels her fingers through his hair and keeps his face hidden, ashamed of, well, he didn't even know. But he was trying to be a man for her, to be strong but today he couldn't be. He couldn't even join her for breakfast. She begins to sing and he shuts his eyes, trying to keep himself from the tears that threatened to fall. _  
_

"You were my strength when I was weak,

You were my voice when I couldn't speak,

You were my eyes when I couldn't see,

You saw the best there was in me,

Lifted me up when I couldn't reach,

Gave me faith because you believed,

I am everything I am because you loved me."

Different phrases strike him differently, but nothing is as beautiful as her voice softly flowing through the wind. "A light in the dark shining in my life," she continues, and stops. He blinks away his tears and turns to her, laying his head on hers which rests on his shoulder. "It's going to be alright, Rum, I promise."

"I know," he whispers. "I know, sweetheart." She turns and kisses him, allowing him to pull her onto his lap in the grass. The sun shines brightly above them. "I never understand how you don't pull away, or cry out in terror. You don't understand that these same hands that hold you now have killed hundreds of people."

"Because I love you," she stresses. "Because I know that you would never hurt me, because I trust you, because I know that you aren't a monster." She allows him to hold her for a few moments, listening to the birds sing as they fly through the clouds and the ruffle of the grass with the wind. It isn't until her stomach rudely interrupts the peace that she scurries for food like a mouse. "Now," she continues, getting off his lap and reaching for their basket. "You and I need to eat. I am going to starve."

"Why didn't you eat without me, dearie?" he asks, stunned. "You don't need to wait – I would've come eventually."

"Stop it," she teases, slapping his shoulder. "I can't imagine sitting at that over sized dining room table all alone and eating. And don't call me dearie."

"I will call you whatever I want," he says dryly. She pouts and begins serving the food. He picks at it at first but eventually ends up scarfing it down. Within an hour the two of them are laying in the grass together – him quiet as she points out clouds and makes things out of them. Every now and then she gets a giggle, and even more often a disagreement.

"Stop it, Rumple," she says. He rolls his eyes.

"It looks like a man with a knife in his chest. Only being honest, dearie."

"You're brutal."

"Thank you for the reminder," he says. She rolls her eyes this time and rolls over onto his chest.

"Get off, dearie," he warns. She lightly traces the side of his face with her finger. "Belle, it is warm enough out here already. Get off before I die of heat stroke." She laughs a bit, and notices that she is growing warm herself.

"We are grumpy today, aren't we," she teases lightly.

"I could always turn you into a toad, dearie."

"Then you would be forced to kiss a frog."

"I said toad."

"I knew someone who kissed a toad once and the little creature transformed into a prince. I am sure you had nothing to do with that," she laughs, brushing her hair to the side. He tries to push her off of him and fails.

"You know nothing."

"Nothing?" she questions. "Well then, I guess you were cursed twice. Once with the dark one and twice with a dull lover."

"Get off, dearie," he says, looking up and lifting his arms behind his head. "I am warning you."

"Hold on while I beg for my life," she replies sarcastically. This seems to pull the last string and in a second she is in his arms. He begins to walk towards the water and her eyes widen. "Rumpelstiltskin, you better not throw me in there!" she says. "You know I just got this dress!"

"I have magic, dearie," he replies in all seriousness. He looks down and pretends to feel sorry for her. "Dresses are such a minor thing." She tries to wiggle out of his arms, yelling at him in between fits of laughter to not throw her into that lake. He is too strong though, and holds her tightly. "Rum! I swear put me down now!" He stands at the edge of the water, unphased by Belle begging to be put down on dry land instead of thrown into the water.

"I warned you, dearie," he says. "Hold on while I pretend to feel sorry for you." She glares at him and he giggles impishly, walking towards the water and tossing her. She screams and quickly swims back towards the surface, splashing. He lifts a hand and she is pushed back under as he walks away.

"Hey!" she yells when she reaches the surface. "That is not fair! No magic, Rumpelstiltskin, you hear me!"

"You don't get to make the rules!" he yells back.

"RUM!" She hears him laughing and trudges onto land. She shakes her soaking wet hair, spraying him with water. He disappears in a cloud of purple smoke and she feels his hands grab her from behind. She squeals and tries to pry his hands off as he drags her back towards the water. This time, she is quick and grabs his ankles, pulling him down with her. Taken back by her speed he falls in beside her.

"Belle!" he yells as they reach the surface. She raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, sorry, did you get wet?" she asks. He splashes her and she laughs. "Leather vests are such a minor thing," she says, mocking his accent and serious tone of voice. He shakes his head and dives under water, grabbing her ankles and pulling her to the bottom of the lake. She turns and blows bubbles in his face, pushing him away and swimming back up. As soon as they make it back, he grabs her waist, ready to do it again. She tries to push him away.

"Is there something wrong, dearie?" he asks nonchalantly. She laughs and slaps his chest.

"Stop it!" she exclaims.

"Stop what, dear? I am sorry, I get that a lot I am going to need you to be more specific." She tries to pry his hands open and he moves them, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

"Rum!" she squeals.

"Yes, dear?" he responds. She shakes her head and pouts.

"Please let me go? Please? Pretty, pretty please?"

"Ah, ah, ah, but my dear, not when your so sad." She looks at him dryly and he leans in, kissing her softly on the lips. She leans into him harder and opens her mouth. They continue to explore each other in the rippling water. She moans and he brings her onto her back, twirling them under the water as he holds her in his arms, giving her breath as they kiss. She smiles, and he matches his smile to her beautiful one against her lips before giving her another breath of air. She licks her lips and entertwines their fingers as they swim, her hair covering the two of them as they explore the depths of not only each other, but the lake.

After a few hours, thunder rumbles in the distance, stopping their little game. They trudge out of the water and back to the castle, her barely able to keep up with his long strides. He could have magicked them there but they needed that time. They needed that half hour of silence, of just following each other and making loving glances. Becoming one with the fact that even though she would never bare a child, they could have happiness if they just tried.

Belle looks in the mirror one more time before exiting her room. She sprays a bit more perfume and fluffs her hair, making sure it was soft and smelled like the vanilla he seemed to love so much. _Why do you care so much?_ Her mind screams. She sighs and shakes her head.

"You look lovely," she hears as she opens her bedroom door. It startles her slightly, and she jumps, unaccustomed to him accompying her down to supper. Rumple stands their, leaning against the wall as if he always does this. She smiles and shuts it behind her.

"Thank you, Rumple, I have to say that you do as well. And I don't know what kind of cologne you have on but you smell wonderful." He looks down, unsure of the complement. Nobody had ever told him that before. She holds out her arm and he stares at her, confused.

"Take it," she explains. He goes to protest but is stopped with her finger. "Just take it, you silly man." He does, and they walk downstairs, arm in arm to what he had prepared. She gasps as the door opens. A golden table cloth covers the old wooden table and a large vase of roses sits in the center, surrounded by many different types of food. The aroma makes her mouth water. It seemed that for the first time in years, the two of them were going to have a real date.

"Rumple," she breaths. "You . . . you did all of this? For me? For us?" She turns to look at him and he smiles, taking his finger and brushing a lose strand of hair out of her face.

"Of course, my flower. Of course I did. I. . . I love you." She smiles, and the old nickname nearly brings tears to her eyes. He hardly ever called her that anymore, and she couldn't even remember the last time he claimed he loved her. He bends on one knee, and opens a small box containing the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. Diamonds surround the outside and rubies and sapphires form the center in a beautiful half moon. She wipes tears from her eyes as she looks back at him.

"Isabelle French, I just want you to know that you are the reason I wake up every morning, that you drive me to be a better man, that you make me want to live forever. But I don't want to live forever alone – not any longer," he says quietly. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever set my eyes on. You stir in me emotions I thought that I would never feel again. Belle," he says quietly. "Sweetheart, I don't just love you. I am _in_ _love_ with you." He takes her hand and she begins to cry harder, all tears of joy. Everything made sense now, the way he had been acting, the strange feeling in her heart, the way he looked at her differently, seemed to observe her throughout the day. "Will you marry me?"

She nods her head , wiping her eyes with the hand he isn't holding and mouthing the word yes as loudly as she can in between bouts of excitement. As soon as the ring is upon her finger, he jumps up and lifts her into the air, twirling her gently above him and singing her name with joy. They laugh together as she wraps her arms around his neck to hold him as close as she can.

"Belle, you truly are an angel." She shakes her head and cups his cheek, bringing him closer and bringing their lips together in a passionate kiss. He gives her everything he has and when they pull apart, both of them are left panting. With a flick of his wrist, he is transformed into his best blue suit and she in his favorite yellow dress, the one they had danced in when they snuck around her fathers castle.

"Will you dance with me, Belle?" he asks, bowing professionally. She curtsies and lends him her hand. He flicks his wrist and they are in his ballroom, surrounded by golden chandeliers and guided by music. He takes her other hand and it isn't long before they are dancing across the room, staring into each others eyes. It had been so long, so long since they had truly danced. She fingers the ring on her until they slow down.

Time no longer mattered. Time had never mattered, what mattered was that the two of them found love. Late into the night, she lays her head on his chest and he lifts her on his feet. The music fades, yet their love continues as she hums the song she had sang this morning while lying against his chest. They float across the ballroom to her voice, and when her voice is no more, they lay on a bed beside the hearth, there dreams filled with soft footsteps and something that no-one could explain. Not even Belle. Some things are too deep for worlds, even enchanted worlds to understand.

For the first time, the entire kingdom was filled with peace. The birds sang and danced, the deer played in the meadows and the stars fell like tears across the dark night sky. Babies slept quietly, and wars ended, sensing the change in the wind. Candles shone that much brighter, and people began to smile again. Even the water knew, and became sweet and refreshing – foals reared and whinnied to their mothers, and the land glowed with health and nourishment.

 _You know the dress I will make you,_ he had said while holding her close. _It will be white as snow, made from pearls spun under the sea and sewn together with golden thread from my spinning wheel. You will have a crown made of flowers that never die; lilacs, roses, honeysuckle, dandelions, anything you can dream of. I will spin jewels for the thread needed for the veil, and the dress will be covered in nothing but the pedals of roses."_ He wanted to continue, but was stopped by her hand stroking his cheek.

 _I know I will love it, Rumpelstiltskin. I know I will. I will because it will remind me of you, it will smell like you, it will feel like you, everything about it will represent the two of us living happily ever after._ She looked up into his beautiful eyes. _I wish I could tell you how much I love you._ His face had softened, and she had layed her head back on his shoulder, trusting his strong arms to hold her tightly as he carried them higher then she had ever imagined.

 _I love you, Belle. I love you more then I have ever loved anybody. I love you to every realm and back, and then back again, and then a few more times after that._ She had giggled a bit against his coat and he had relished in the feeling of her happiness. Even the fairies that daringly watched through the window were brought to tears by the moment, and their hearts were softened towards the monster they had learned to fear. Never had they seen a love as beautiful as the love he held for the girl in his arms that night.

 **Hello dearies! I was a bit disappointed as I didn't get a single review for the last chapter. Is this one better? Also, I am so excited that they are finally getting married, let me know if it feels rushed and I will see what I can do. Thank you so much for reading and btw, the song I used is Because You Loved Me by Celine Dion. It is one of my favorites and I recommend that all of you listen to it at least once. The first time I listened to it, it nearly brought me to tears! Please give me all and any thoughts! God Bless!**


	21. Chapter 21: Under The Veil --

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time Characters.**

Under The Veil Of A Heart's True Love

"Supper is never going to be ready if you keep staring at that ring, dearie," he says, waving his hand in the air dramatically and rocking on his heel. Belle goes back to cutting the pepper, trying her hide her embarrassment. The two of them had decided to have the wedding in secret; Rumple extremely concerned for her safety. He knew that the moment Regina or anyone else found out that he loved someone that Belle was liable to be used as bait.

"Sorry, Rumple, I cannot help it."

"Why?" he asks teasingly. He comes behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. "Better then dear old Gaston's?" he whispers in her ear. She rolls her eyes and pushes the chopped part of the pepper to the side.

"Really Rum? If you didn't provide better then that old rat I would be concerned." She lifts it into the light and he brings his much larger hand under hers. She grins before lowering her hand back to the knife, continuing to chop various vegetables. "Trust me, there is no competition there."

"So sure, are we dearie?" She elbows him slightly and he shifts.

"You know I love you, and you alone." She turns and allows him to kiss her. Three carrots remain to be chopped and Parmesan to be grated. She tries to turn but he holds her tightly against his chest. Ever since they had made up and became engaged he had been extremely possessive of her, always following her around. When he wasn't, she could usually see him staring through a window when she was outside or passing by a doorway when she was inside. Of course, he was quick to disappear but she knew he watched her. "Rum," she whines teasingly, leaning her head back. "It's not the ring that is slowing down supper now." His breath tickles her forehead.

"Why don't I just create food like I did the other night, dearie? It was pleasant enough." She shakes her head and pries his arms from her waist.

"No Rum. This is my area, and to be honest, I enjoy cooking for you. It brings me joy." He frowns and she grabs the cheese beginning to grate it. He tries to hide it but fails as she sees him mouth some words from the corner of the kitchen. The cheese poofs into a grated pile on the counter. "Rumpelstiltskin!" she cries, frustrated. He stares at her innocently, his eye-brows raised and his mouth in a slight smirk. "I saw you! I know it was you!"

"Prove it, dearie, and I will believe you." She stares at him, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

"Your the only one in this castle that knows magic!"

"Who said it was magic?"

"I don't know. But then again, I don't know who said a lot of things, like, who said that strawberries are red, and chocolate is sweet, and dogs bark?"

"I don't know either, dearie, but I definitely didn't hear anyone say that that was magic." She reaches for a pot to pour the ingredients in and they float above her reach. She looks over at him and he leans harder against the wall, his legs crossed in front of him.

"Are you bored?" she asks teasingly.

"The dark one is never bored. Just in lack of proper entertainment." She pretends to look at the time and frowns, biting her lip. "Damn it," she says quietly. He nearly dies in shock. His Belle just swore, not once in their entire time living together had she ever swore to anything or anybody.

"What is the matter?" he asks, stepping forward. She looks at the time again and back at the pot which floats high in the air.

"It's just getting late and I wanted to make the strawberry cobbler but it seems it may have to wait." She looks at him, trying to keep a straight face.

"No need, dearie," he responds. "I'll let you be." He is gone in a cloud of purple smoke and the pot slowly lowers itself down on the stove. She grins to herself, having outsmarted her obnoxious lover. It isn't long before not only the soup is finished, but the cobbler as well. She wipes her hands off on her apron and sets it all on a tray to bring it out to the table. Rumple waits anxiously at the end. She notices from the corner of her eye how his gaze follows her movements, even as she sets the dishes out and organizes the food in the order it is to be served. Belle grins. If she knew any better, she would say that something about her tonight was really turning him on, even though they had both agreed that she keep her virtue until their wedding night.

She sets the food on the table and gives him his dish before picking up the tea cup. It was cold tea tonight but that is okay, he liked it sweetened and she preferred it with a squeeze of lemon.

Belle pulls out her chair and jumps back, squealing in shock as a snake hisses, its fangs dripping. The tea drops on the floor and all over her dress. She stares at the angry reptile before her, shaking her head in fear before it disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.

"Rum," she says hoarsely. Trying to distract herself and shake it off, she picks up the tea cup, which is chipped on the end from the fall. She slowly stands and begins to apologize, but the chair is empty. Instead, she finds him beside her..

"Its just a cup," he quips, but his voice is solemn and quiet. Rum places it by his seat. She pinches the top of her nose to try to calm her breathing as he places his hands on her shoulders. "Belle, I swear I had no idea you are so afraid of snakes. If I would have known -"

"Then you would have put a rat in my seat instead."

"Well perhaps," he says. "But maybe, dear, just maybe I would've done nothing at all. I wish not to frighten you too much." They stand quietly until she brings her breathing down to a controlled level. The dragon lifts his head in the corner of the room, observing Belle intently. It came up to her waist now – they had decided on the name Leviathan, actually, she had decided on the name but he went along with it without complaint. The two of them called him Vethan for short. The little thing was so protective of her though, even around Rum. Whenever she was frightened or squealed or laughed really hard the dragon was right there, either staring at her or growling. One time, when Rum was chasing her all over the castle – to be fair she had taken a bunch of his potions because he had disappeared for nearly three days working on them, but either way he was trying to get them back and force her to tell him, quote, _where the hell his damn potions were,_ the dragon went behind her and jumped on Rumple, leaving gash marks across his chest and teeth marks in his neck. She really had to beg for the poor things life after that. This time though, she can tell that Rumple isn't angry, just upset that he took the teasing too far.

"Rum," she sighs, looking up at him. She can tell that he really has no idea what to do in this moment – by the look on his face the joke was made out of pure innocence, not malice. She grins and places her forehead on his chest, laughing quietly. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." He rubs her shoulders and she looks up at him. "It's just something from my childhood . . . we heard this story of a queen placing snakes in her lovers bed so that she could become ruler. It frightened me as a child, and I never forgot the horrid way my father described his death and the pain, and just . . .Rum, I just . . . I can't do snakes." He nods his head in understanding before taking a few steps back, observing the tea that now stains my dress. "I can probably get it out later," she says, dabbing it with a napkin from the table. He frowns.

"I think not, dearest. Plus, I like this one better." He waves his hand and the blue dress appears, the holes from her past as maid gone. She grins – what was once used as a working clothes is now his favorite dress. "I like the way it brings out your eyes."

"You made it for me, it was a long time ago but I remember finding it on my bed that one night." He stares at me, confused.

"How did you know I made it, dear?" she grins and lift up the side a bit. "You see this?" She asks. "As far as I know, you are the only one able to spin gold." He stares at her, shocked that she even would notice such a thing. "You made that maroon cloak as well, and I think you probably spun that out of rubies or very thick red wool. I couldn't tell. I also have the winter hat, and gloves, and the lamp cover I enjoy using so much with rose pedals sewn into it." He shifts slightly, uncomfortable that shr knew he made all of those things.

"Well," he stutters, raising a hand. "I am hungry. We must eat before it gets too late." They sit down at the table and begin to eat, stealing each others food every now and then and laughing as they fed each other pieces of the cobbler.

PAGE BREAK

Since the night of their engagement, Rumple hardly ever slept with his precious Belle. Every now and then she would hear him visit during the middle of the night to check on her, but she missed him when he wasn't holding her. She found it difficult to sleep with her mind on him, and even when she did sleep, Belle felt bare and unprotected from the nightmares she had been fighting ever since her father had rejected her. Again, as always, they sit on the bed together for a few minutes before he kisses her goodnight. Belle watches painfully as he slowly makes his way towards her door. _No,_ she thinks. _Not another night. Not another night alone to be left shivering in these lonely sheets._

"Rum?" she calls. He turns and looks at her. "Must you be so busy?"

"Busy? What could you mean by that?" She gets out of bed and wraps her arms around his neck.

"Rum, I wish that you stay with me . . . even if just for tonight. It brings me comfort to have you near."

"Does this room frighten you, my Belle?" he asks. "We have hundreds of others you can choose from if you wish." She shakes her head.

"No, not the room. Not having you by my side does, not knowing where you are, if you are even here." He sighs, and pulls away to sit in a chair. She rolls her eyes and take his hand, pulling him back up into a standing position. "I mean sleep with me, Rum!" she exclaims, exasperated, "I don't bite!" He backs away, shaking his head.

"We agreed . . ." She places her finger on his lips and he stares at her, too stunned to speak.

"I don't mean _sleep_ with me, Rum," she says quietly. His face softens as he begins to understand what it is she wants. Not sex . . . just normal, every day sleep. He taps her nose.

"A bit on the ambitious side tonight, dear?" he teases. She blushes and turns, hoping he doesn't see. Of course, it brought him much joy to be able to do that to her, to make her smile, to bring butterflies to her stomach as she did to him so often. He takes off his vest and with a flick of his wrist is in his salmon colored silk shirt. Belle lays under the covers as Rumple climbs in, pulling himself closer behind her and burying his face in her vanilla scented hair. Belle always smelled good, even as a child – although at that point he didn't have any feelings for the girl. That would have been disgusting. It was after the few years they spent apart that when he came back, their relationship was so awkward that it began to change. It changed into love . . . true love.

"Rum, don't stop," she mumbles, taking his hand and placing it back around her waist. He lifts it back into the air and with a flick of his wrist the candles blow out and the fire is brought down to a more reasonable level.

"Don't worry, dear, I am not going anywhere." She reaches back and takes his wrist again, placing it back where he had it before.

"I am not worried. It just feels nice when you were rubbing my side . . . sometimes I still experience some pain there from the surgery. It is minor but whatever you were doing was helping." She places her hand over his. "I think it is just bruised."

He brings his other hand into her soft hair and begins to unbraid it. It bothered him that she did that – her hair was so beautiful, why braid it? Did it bother her at night? Maybe it was just a woman thing.

"Rum," she laughs softly, "Are you serious?"

"About what?"

"Where am I?" she teases. "In a spa or in your arms, please, your going to make me fall asleep."

"Well, dearie, the good thing is that it is nighttime last time I checked, and you need a lot more sleep then I do, sleep that most nights I notice you don't get, and also that I am actually capable of putting you to sleep without a potion." He notices a knot and begins to finger through it. Her hair is so soft, and it smells so good, and it feels good, and it is beautiful, and for reasons he is unable to comprehend she enjoys it when he messes with it. Even throughout the day he always makes sure that he restrains himself from touching it, and it is difficult – to him this is the only time of day he can ever feel her locks through his fingers and breath the deliriously sweet vanilla scent it kept after her bath.

"Rum," she breaths. "You better not keep yourself awake just to make sure I fall asleep."

"I can't keep myself awake, dear, if anything I think I may be dreaming now."

"You are too adorable." He hardly hears her, to focused on the task of upbraiding her hair with one hand, and avoiding pulling it to harshly. I mean, he dealt with spinning and knitting and weaving his entire life but a challenge never provided him as much pleasure as untangling his beauty's hair.

Her breathing slowly deepens and it isn't long before he begins to see rays of light through his closed eyelids. _Rays of light,_ he thinks. Belle grins in his arms. Turns out the songs of the morning would prove that Belle wasn't the only one in the castle who struggled to sleep without the gentle whispers of love and sweet caresses that they continue to share in secret – even if she had to drag him to her bed every night she would do it. In her mind, she wasn't sleeping with a demon, but the most gentle, sensitive, loving man she had ever known; and would ever know.

 **Thank you so much those of you who reviewed! It brought such a smile to my face! Please continue, I am thinking about ending this one after a few more chapters and beginning a part 2. I don't know, what do you think? Also, if your a crazy romantic (like me . . .lol) check out my story Broken Vow and Valentine Kisses. Haha, I have to say, reading other peoples fanfics have encouraged me to continue . . . thank you Mama bear Emma Swan for your encouragement, and echofinly, Snapegirlkmf, (Check out their stories they are totally awesome!) and everyone else, in which there are many, look in my favorite authors! Love you dearies! You are the reason I write!**


	22. Chapter 22: Veil of Hidden Kisses

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time Characters.**

Veil Of Hidden Kisses

The breeze seemed a bit too quick, a bit too cold, and a bit annoying. The sky was very blue, for lack of better words, and the clouds, well, there was only one and it was flat in the middle of the entire sky.

"Isabelle! Stop it!" Marian half scolds, half laughs. Belle shakes her head and takes a deep breath.

"It just doesn't feel right. I mean, my father doesn't even know – he thinks that I am still just working here as a maid."

"Isabelle, your father is long gone," she says, her voice solemn. "The darkness has taken over his heart almost completely. He is consumed with finding that knife, consumed with money, alcohol, finding Cora and has even sided with the Evil Queen against Rumpelstiltskin. I know that you think your father is a good man, but he isn't. He doesn't even hardly remember you." Belle looks down.

"How can you be so sure?" Marian places a hand on Isabelle's shoulder. The silence is enough to assure Belle that the father she once knew was gone – replaced with a darker man. "But don't be sad, Isabelle," Marian chirps, continuing to brush her locks of hair. "You are getting married today, darling, which is enough reason to be excited." Belle smiles, a bit giddily as she imagines what the rest of her day will be filled with. "It's a wonder he even invited me here to help you prepare; I thought I would never see you again but he was such a gentleman. _Not even a monster would allow their maiden to stand at the alter without a witness, with nobody to confirm the marriage, with not a single friend to stand by them in the greatest moment of their life,_ he had said. So here I am!" Isabelle laughs, turning and hugging the woman she had missed so much. Marian had been there since she was a child, watching her, caring for her. _Nanny,_ she had called her so long ago. Now it seemed they live on a name to name basis.

"I thought you would never forgive him after he turned you into a cat," Isabelle says. "You have never looked at anyone with as much disgrace in your life!"

"Well, it took me some time to get used to you and him. But once I saw that he truly loved you, the way he looked at you then, and the way he looks at you now; two completely different looks but looks that hold incredible depth. I say that as long as he never hurts you, I will be more then happy to accept the two of you. However," she says, standing. "I am positive that I will be the only one willing to say that, besides Snow and Charming, so I wouldn't spread the news if I were you." She nods her head, understanding that although she loved Rumpelstiltskin, he had made more enemies then friends . . . enemies that would use her like the three witches. She would not risk their safety for puny talk and gossip.

Marian opens the closet where Belle said she had placed her dress. It was plain, but her sewing was awful and it was easier to stick to a simpler style then cry through difficult material and heinous designs that would take hours to accomplish.

"Isabelle," Marian gasps as she reaches into the closet. She smiles a bit, knowing that Marian was known to make gorgeous dresses for brides across Avolonea. This certainly wouldn't meet her standards but it would have to do. Plus, Rum loved her, not her clothing or her skills for making them, which she was extremely thankful for. "This is absolutely breathtaking! Where in all the seven seas did you get this material and how in the enchanted forest did you ever accomplish sewing such beautiful designs and such even stitches. When you left you could hardly sew a straight line!" Belle looks at her, confused.

"What are you talking about? I made myself a simple dress, one that a commoner would wear." Marian gently takes the dress out and Belle gasps as she notices the several improvements that made her original dress hardly recognizable. She stands and runs her fingers against the material, and lifts the hem into the light.

"You're blushing," Marian says. Belle quickly looks down and tries not to stare at the gorgeous dress before her, fit for a queen. Golden thread holds it together in several designs, pearls laced into the top and the bottom with dark red rose pedals strewn throughout it evenly. She notices how it is now low enough to show her cleavage and how the veil is made with a lighter material, also sewn with golden thread. Something falls out of the dress and Belle dives for it. It is too late, her maid laughing and holding it in the air. She had always been several inches taller then Belle.

"I am sure Rumpelstiltskin had nothing to do with this," she comments, gently laying the dress on the bed all while keeping the letter from her reach.

"Give me the letter, Marian!" Belle yells, reaching for it. "He wrote it for me!"

"How do you know? I see no address," Marian teases. Defeated, Belle sits on the bed. "Will you allow me to read this to you, Belle, or is it personal?" she asks more seriously. Belle smiles a bit and looks into her lap.

"I suppose you can read it, if you promise not to poke fun."

"I promise. But first, lets get you ready. I will read it to you before you walk down the aisle." They argue lightly for a bit about the timing of the letter, but eventually, Isabelle agrees to wait, knowing that Marian held a lot more wisdom about these things then she did. Ever since the death of her mother Marian had been there for her, and had stood by her side in her greatest times of need, and her greatest times of joy.

 **Page Break**

"What is it like?" Belle asks as Marian finishes her hair. In about half an hour she would be completely ready, and in the next hour she would be married, and in the next two hours she would lose her maidenhood.

"Doesn't it take a long time to get ready for these things, Isabelle?" Marian says, changing the subject. "We have been dressing you for the past three hours."

"And I feel like I am going to vomit."

"Nerves?" She swallows the lump in her throat and rubs her stomach.

"You have no idea." Marian hands her a mint and Belle takes it gladly. "So what is it like?"

"Be more specific." Belle rolls her eyes.

"You know what I mean. You know, the love, what people do when they marry, love making – " she struggles to find the words without either blushing or giggling or picturing the two of them in bed together.

"Well, it hurts a bit at first. Hopefully he will be gentle. Other then that, though, it is a beautiful thing, something that you will go to in hard times, in good times, in times of need, in times of plenty. You will not enjoy it at first, no, not like you will later. It will only get better as you grow closer. But, my precious Isabelle, it will feel like the best night of your life, and you will be the happiest woman in the world. And, you will have 'the glow.' The glow that will make the Dark One wonder this is all real."

"He isn't all that dark," she says quietly.

"Lets see what you say after tonight," Marian teases. Belle laughs, her imagination flying into realms that she wished it wouldn't. She stands, and Marian looks her over, beaming. "You are the definition of beauty tonight, Isabelle. I say that we did a wonderful job preparing you. One more thing." She opens her bag and takes out a bottle of perfume. "Your mother used this on her wedding night and it had your father melting." She dabs it on her pulse points and sprays a bit in her hair. Belle breaths deeply, enjoying the scent of her mother.

"Thank you, Marian. Sometimes I still miss her, very deeply. Of course, Rum has always been there but this . . . this is a gift I won't forget. I have always longed to be just like her – loving, gentle, clothed with goodness and grace and everything that should be in a woman. To me, when I think of beauty, I remember her."

"Isabelle," Marian says softly. She turns, holding back tears and looking into the woman's eyes."You look just like your mother. She would be very proud." They embrace, and Belle gently wipes tears from her eyes, trying not to mess up her makeup.

"Thank you. I . . . I don't have words to describe how thankful I am that you would come, that you would support me and love me and treat me like your daughter all this time. That you would accept that I am marrying him and celebrate with me."

"Well," she says. "I have never been given a greater honor. I feel for my husband though . . . he is currently trying to help Jefferson prepare Rumpelstiltskin. From what I hear he isn't the most patient imp."

"He is patient when he wants to be," she replies. "With me, at least." They embrace one more time before Marian takes out the letter. "If this makes me cry then you are going to have to re-do all this makeup."

"Then we will re-do it and you will walk down the aisle looking like a goddess sent down to bless the luckiest man in all the realms."

"I think that might be an exaggeration."

"I think not," Marian says, popping another mint into her mouth and handing one to Isabelle. She opens the letter and takes out the perfectly folded pages, opening them one by one and looking them over. His handwriting is immaculate and she stares at the page for a few moments, admiring the penmanship. A man with this skill could only come from a place of high authority. Perhaps a knight? Or maybe it just comes with being the dark one. She begins to read it aloud.

 _My Dearest Belle,_

 _When I first met you, you were just a child. I remember you running through the rain and how you fell into me, and looked up at me with those big, blue eyes I have come to cherish more then anything else. For the first time since I became the Dark One, somebody was not afraid of me. I fought for years after that with myself, trying so hard not to love you, to leave you, knowing that someday you would leave me if I was not the one to go first. Then you started calling my name, and I remember when you lost your front teeth and how frustrated you were because I would tease you about how you never said it correctly. I remember the first night you read the Velveteen Rabbit to me, and then I remember holding you as a grown woman when you read it. After I grew used to having you near, I knew I could never live without you. When your father put up the barriers, and all I had was a magic mirror to watch you, I grew depressed. Night after night I would dream of you, I would call your name in my sleep or just refuse to sleep at all, watching you instead. It frightened me then, but the fear has now been replaced by love and appreciation, and just plain unbelief that someone as incredible as you would ever love a monster like me._

 _Belle, my flower, I love you more then you can ever imagine. I cannot thank you enough for accepting me for who I am, the darkness, the goodness, the impish flourishes and the endless teasing that I know we both secretly enjoy. I saw the dress that you had made and knew that you deserved more. I was quite surprised at your work though, I have seen before how you struggle just to form one stitch. I was thinking of keeping it to prove that you can sew but then I thought again, and just changed a few things._

 _I understand if you are nervous about tonight, and I wish to calm you. Being with a monster cannot be easy, but I promise if you wish to keep our relationship on lighter terms I will respect that. If you choose otherwise, I promise to be extremely gentle, and if it takes a few days for you to adjust, then I will do whatever it takes. I promise not to ever treat you like your father did, or Gaston. Let me be damned if I ever lay a hand on you – you are a woman, more then I deserve, and you ought to be treated with kindness, gentleness, and above all, respect. I give you free reign to leave at any time that you wish our relationship to end, or even if you just need a break. The doors will always be open for you to go._

 _I love you, Belle. If I tell you a thousand times then I haven't told you enough. You are my savior, my angel, everything I ever wanted and everything I thought I would never be given the privilege to enjoy. I love you, Belle, and now, I get to marry you. Tonight, you become mine to hold and to love forever, mine to care for, mine to impress and mine to bring laughter too. And I become yours, although, what you do to me is more then I could ever do for you. May you and I find that happily ever after that you have read to me a thousand times over in this once dark castle, that is now turned to light with your beautiful presence. I love you, Isabelle. I love you, and tonight, I believe that I will be able prove it to you in ways you could never imagine. Honestly, I cannot wait to see you as you walk down the aisle, my dearest flower._

 _With Love,_

 _Rumpelstiltskin_

The two of them stand silently as she sets the letter gently down on the bed. Belle couldn't help but let the tears fall, and continues to dab them before they fall for the sake of her makeup. It seemed impossible, to be loved with the depth that Rumpelstiltskin loved her with. After a few minutes, Marian takes Belle's hand and begins to guide her towards the door.

"If I had any questions about his love for you, there are none left any more Isabelle. If he could be given the freedom to worship you he would do just that." Belle nods her head, unable to speak and shaking with excitement for the evening. After a few minutes, she calms down and refreshes herself with some lemon water and fresh air from the window in her room. Someone knocks on the door.

"Come in," Marian says. The door slowly opens and Robin enters, immediately lifting Marian into the air and kissing her. Belle cannot help but let out a giggle.

"Let's get the wedding started!" he exclaims. He bows to Isabelle, who curtsies and takes his hand. "You are breathtaking, Isabelle. Absolutely breathtaking. And as for Rumpelstiltskin," he says, guiding her down the steps, "If he has anything dreadful to say against you then it is going to take a few years to get the man to say it."

"He would tell you I read to many fairy tales and he is tired of me nearly burning down his kitchen." The three of them break out into laughter and make small talk on the way to the room where the wedding was to take place. Belle is grateful for the distraction – her stomach felt as if it was in knots with nerves. What if she tripped? What if she made a fool of herself, or stuttered, or sneezed . . . anything can happen.

"You might feel better if you actually used the oxygen provided in this castle. I don't think he cares about us taking that," Robin says. She grins sheepishly and takes a deep breath, calming her nerves. Robin takes her arm and she looks at him gratefully. "If your father was in his right mind, he would be very proud of you today."

"Would he be?" He nods.

"When your mother was alive, I knew a different man. Rest assured, Isabelle, I know he would have been." The doors open and the music begins to play as he walks her down the aisle towards Rumpelstiltskin, who appears in an large cloud of swirling purple smoke, with his hands flourished into the air. She gasps as she notices how handsome he, wearing an ocean blue suit with long dark brown boots that bring out his eyes. His hair is combed through, but still slightly loose and curly. He slowly looks over, and she notices the way he looks her up and down several times, mouth gaping before forcing his eyes back to hers. He lends a hand as she steps up the stairs, trying not to trip.

"You never fail to make a glorious entrance, do you my love," she says quietly. He brings a hand up to her cheek and looks into her eyes, exploring their depth, the light that they hold that he had somehow been blessed with.

"For you, my dear?" he asks. "Never. And," he adds, placing his hand back to his side. "You are a spitting image of your mother tonight, Belle, and absolutely gorgeous beyond anything I have ever lain my eyes on."

"Well you look like a prince, the most handsome prince I have ever seen. And the letter, the dress," she chokes out.

"Sshh, my Belle. I promise . . . I meant every word. You are the only one I could ever love." The friar separates them a bit and Marian takes Robins hand for support. It was like seeing her daughter get married . . . like she was losing something, yet gaining something so much better. She never imagined that her little Isabelle would grow to be such an amazing woman, and learn to love a man . . .well . . .whatever he was so very deeply and that her love for him would lead to an even deeper love; a beauty and a beast.

"Do you, Rumpelstiltskin, take Isabelle French to be your wife, to have and hold for all time, until one should perish or our Lord returns?"

"I do," he says, never taking his eyes off her.

"And do you, Isabelle French, take Rumpelstiltskin Gold to be your husband, to have and hold for all time, until one should perish or our Lord returns?"

"I do," she says. They stare at each other through each of the vows, commanding them to love each other forever, to be there for each other, to submit unto each other. Everything that a husband and wife should do.

"Well then," he finally says. "You may kiss the bride." He pulls her closer and gently lifts the veil, bringing their lips together in a perfect vow that would last for all time, a kiss that signified the happily ever after she had prayed for her entire life. Robin and Marian clap, and Marian wipes away tears before Robin pulls her closer in a needed kiss for their part. Belle and Rumple don't pull apart until her lungs are burning for air, and she leans into him harder as she pants with desire.

"You are beautiful when you do that," he whispers. She grins against his shoulder.

"Do what?" He bends and kisses her jaw before lifting her into his arms. She nearly squeals with delight at his touch and strength.

"Nearly asphyxiate yourself while kissing me." She laughs and slaps his shoulder lightly before pulling herself up to kiss him again. He doesn't refuse it, and returns the gesture with the unbelievable passion he had been waiting to show her for what felt like eternity.

 **Thank you everyone for reading! Any thoughts are greatly appreciated, especially since this is the first wedding I have ever done before. Was the letter too sappy? Please let me know. Also, I will most likely be starting a part two after a few more chapters of this . . . I don't know what I will call it yet and am still thinking over the plot but any ideas are helpful. Greatest thanks to those of you who have read and reviewed: She Saw His Eyes. Love you all! And have a great rest of the week!**


	23. Chapter 23: Wedding Night

**I do not own any of the Once Upon a Time characters.**

Wedding Night

For the first time since sunrise the castle is completely quiet. Marian and Robin had left to go in their room to discuss the evening, leaving Belle and Rumpelstiltskin staring out the window. She grins as he wraps his arms around her waist.

"Rum," she breaths, leaning into his shoulder and shutting her eyes. He stares down at her, wondering how she could ever love him – a beast, a murderer, a lowly cowardly spinner. He slowly pushes his thoughts aside. She had told him over and over not to think of himself like that; that she saw him as someone so much better. He at least owed her one night where he was able to pretend that their relationship was normal, and that he deserved her just as much as she deserved him. "Do you want me?" she whispers, lifting her hand into his hair. He bends and gently kisses her, pulling her closer. She moans, pleasure flowing through her. They had kissed a lot since the beginning of their relationship but it is different now. Marriage can bind them together in a way she had never experienced . . . in a way she craved so deeply. He pushes her up against a wall and drives himself in, holding the back of her neck and tangling his fingers in the hair against her nape. She breathes in deeply and smiles before continuing to kiss him. _It's time to let go, Rumpelstiltskin. Show her who you are, show her your lust for her, show her how you crave her body, fulfill every desire that rages within you._

"Rum," she moans. She brings her arms under his and gently drags her fingers across his shoulders. Something clicks and she opens her eyes, but Rumple pushes her back against the wall to where she cannot see. Something with an awful stench fills her nostrils and she tries to pull away. He holds her side and begins to kiss her neck and jawline, nearly purring with contentment.

"Flimsy locks, Rumple," someone says. Rumpelstiltskin jerks away from Belle and she grasps onto the wall for support. "Oh, sorry, did I interrupt?" Belle glares at the Evil Queen as she approaches her, touching the side of her dress and staring at it. She looks her up and down as if she is a trinket to be appraised for sale. "Oh . . . I see."

"What is it, Regina?" he seethes. "From what I can remember, you were not invited."

"And what a shame," she adds. "I would have loved to support your 'true love,'" she drags the words out as if they sicken her. "I have to say . . . do you enjoy having this beast assault you the way he was? Does his; oh I don't know, _darkness,_ really turn you on? Your father will be disgusted." She turns to Rumple and looks him up and down. "They do say opposites attract. Guess time will tell."

"What do you want?" he growls.

"Oh . . . just to say hello before I tell her Father and Gaston – to let you know that I am always watching, and I will be reporting back to the villages until someone hunts her down and kills her. You know, Rumple, that you cannot keep her safe forever."

"Get out," he says, trying to stay calm. "Get out, _now_." Magic sparks at his fingertips. She laughs as she begins to disappear in a cloud of black smoke.

"Just warning you, dearest."

Once the smoke is gone, Belle lets out a huge sigh, leaning against the wall for support. The queen wanted her dead, and that would mean that once she reported back to her father, the entire kingdom would want her. She would never allow Rumple to take out an entire kingdom, to kill her father and everyone who had supported her as a child. The problem was, he would never allow anyone to come near her. _Your father will be disgusted._

"Belle?" he says softly. She realizes she is still trembling and struggles to form deep breaths. He takes her hand and gently pulls her into his chest, whispering that she would always be safe, that he would protect her. Eventually, her breathing slows down to normal and she looks up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Is it true? Are they all coming for me, does my own father want me dead? Does he truly want nothing to do with me anymore?" He kisses her forehead and wipes away her tears.

"Your father isn't who he used to be, precious Belle. If he were in his right mind, he would have joined us today and walked you down the aisle the way all fathers do. I know he would have." She nods and they quietly stand in each others embrace until the sun finishes setting, and all that can be seen is stars and puffy clouds. She walks up to the window and admires the beautiful night sky. Something shoots from the ground and explodes into a thousand colors with a bang, swirling around until it falls. She slowly turns to face Rumple who comes in front of her and opens the window, pointing to a few areas and snapping his wrist. He takes her arm and pulls her closer, noticing her confusion.

"These are fireworks, Belle. People use it when they celebrate." Hundreds of colors snap through the air in different designs, swirling around each other in a dance across the sky. She smiles as she watches Rum manipulate the lights with his magic and leans up, pulling him into a kiss.

"Do you like it?" he asks. She watches him intently, his skin lit up by the light.

"Do I like it?" she asks, dumbfounded. "It is breathtaking, Rumple, absolutely out of this world! I never imagined something like this could exist."

"Well that's a new one," he teases. She shakes her head.

"That is not nice, Rumple," she jokes quietly.

"Well it wasn't nice for you to make the dragon the ring keeper either, dearie." She rolls her eyes and he notices how she bites her lip, signifying that he had clearly made her a bit nervous.

"He did a fine job," she replies.

"Yes, he did, until he shed scales on the carpet."

"Those were not scales they were rose pedals!" she exclaims. He shuts the window and looks her up and down, admiring the dress and how it showed her figure beautifully.

"Now how in all the realms are we to get you out of this dress?" he says, continuing to stare at her. He walks closer and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Of course -" he begins, but she stops him.

"If you deny me the pleasure of being with you tonight then I will surely perish in my own desire."

"Belle, I . . . I am not beautiful to look at." She takes her hand and brings it to his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his temple.

"You are beautiful to me, Rumple. All these years I have waited for this moment; I have lain in bed alone, aching, or in your arms, comforted, but desiring more then what I knew I could have. Rum, please, your appearance brings me joy, it makes me happy. I would lay with no other man besides you, and you alone. If I wanted someone normal then I would have married years ago . . . but as you know," she says pulling away, "Normal can hardly be found in my vocabulary. Please," she nearly pleads. "Please take me. All the way, tonight, take me, as I will you." Hearing her soft voice nearly beg him to take her to bed makes him want to magic them into the moment. But he knew that it must wait just a few moments longer, and that he certainly wasn't going to undress her with magic. He wanted to do it himself, he wanted to feel her skin against his fingertips and watch as her body is slowly revealed through the layers of clothing she had been forced to wear.

He lends her his arm and they slowly walk up the steps to his bedroom, the one he had specifically cleaned for tonight, the one that she had only ever been in once or twice since she arrived at the castle. He lifts his wrist and the doors fly open. She laughs, taking his wrist which is still in the air and bringing it back down.

"Show off," she says. He lets out a shrill of delight which just makes her laugh more. He bends down and kisses her before they enter the room, even laughing a bit himself at the antics he had learned so well. The doors shut and he looks her up and down once more.

"We might need to get a bit creative," he says. She grins and sits on the bed, slowly unpinning her hair and taking out the small jewels they had put in place. He stares at her, unsure of where to go.

"The back, Rum, start undoing the ties." He moves behind her on the bed and begins to slowly loosen her dress. Her hair suddenly falls on his face and she turns, gathering it to the side as he brushes away loose strands. "Sorry about that, I thought I had a few pins left."

"No, it's fine darling, feel free to smother me with your hair anytime." She slaps his shoulder playfully and he finally pulls the dress down off her shoulders. She squeals and stands, gathering it across her stomach.

"Don't rush or anything, Rum, for goodness sake's!" He stands and takes her arms, pulling her into a kiss and guiding her back down onto the bed. With a lift of his hand the lights dim down and candles light all around. She wriggles out of her tight dress and it falls on the floor beside them. She bends her head and begins to undo his coat, furiously unbuttoning every button as he lays her under him, supporting her neck. Everything moves quickly, clothes falling everywhere and the lights dimming even farther. She moans as he pulls her up for another kiss. Her slip tears and it shreds into a million little pieces as he melts the clothes of her body. She nearly rips his clothing off and brings her arms around his neck as he lays her back on the pillow.

"Belle," he says. She opens her eyes a bit and pulls him in for another kiss, moaning his name over and over. He shifts above her and cups her breasts in his hands.

"Make love to me, Rum," she whispers, kissing him again. "Lets make love." She shifts a bit and he kisses her brow while tangling his fingers in her hair.

"Belle, this is going to hurt you, and I am sorry. You can bite me, scream, anything is acceptable I promise. I know this is uncomfortable for a women the first few times."

"Just be gentle," she says, looking into his eyes. She rocks her hips a bit under him and he moans deeply, bringing them together. She grits her teeth and he caresses her temples. "Keep going," she breaths. "Don't stop." Her nails dig into his skin as he manipulates her body underneath him, gently rocking them closer together. "Rum," she moans, "Rum, please, rum." He kisses her neck, bringing her skin in between his teeth. He feels her grin against his skin and gently brings his nails across her stomach. She giggles, pushing harder against him. He lifts her onto her side and brings a blanket above them, wrapping his arms around her as they gently release. He wipes away a few tears from her eyes.

"Do I make you happy, Rum?" she asks. "Am I beautiful?" He pulls her closer and she snuggles against his chest.

"You have always made me happy, and in my eyes, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on." She grins.

"And now, you have marked me as yours forever." He kisses her and she pulls herself into him.

"You know how possessive I am with what I call mine." She pants and he nearly bursts with pleasure. Yes, she did know, and nothing brought her more joy then to be his. And as for love making – it was everything and more that Marian had told her. There was nothing as amazing as giving everything she had to her precious Rum.

 **Thank you everyone for reading! Tell me what you think! All reviews are greatly appreciated!**


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